Dark Paradise
by ladykikyo1792
Summary: Peter Pan is dead, and Wendy Darling is now living in Storybrooke. Pretty and popular at her high school, no one guesses that now, months later, she still has nightmares of The Boy Who Never Grew Up. As she struggles to fit in and forget her past, a string of murders make her wonder if her past will ever let her go- or if he really died. AU where Peter isn't Rumple's father.
1. Chapter 1: My Nightmares are His Dreams

**Author's Note: **First off, thank you for reading! Secondly, I love Darling Pan. I hate that OUAT made Peter Rumple's father, so in my story, he isn't. Just as a quick reference: this is AU, and is not following the storyline of the show. Peter did want Henry for the Heart of the Truest Believer, and the Charmings did go to Neverland to rescue him...but how that came about diverges from the show and will be revealed in the story.

Enjoy!

~ladykikyo1792

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><p><em>Chapter 1: My Nightmares are His Dreams<em>

It had been three months since Wendy Darling had been brought to Storybrooke. She lived with her brothers in an apartment down the street from Granny's. While she initally had been happy to see them again, it had quickly become obvious that they were not the boys she had known. Too many years had gone by, years which she had spent with Pan, years which they had worked for him in stony silence and become men old enough to be her father. Sometimes, they acted like it. The result was an awkward relationship, especially as Wendy Darling, now in Storybrooke, had aged. Not much, of course- she now resembled what a normal sixteen year old girl would look like -rather than the eternal fourteen year old she had been in Neverland. But Wendy Darling, no matter how much she wanted to pretend, was not a normal sixteen year old. If only she were.

Oh, she pretended. At high school, she changed her name. She was listed on the rosters as Gwendolyn Angelina Carissima. Her friends called her "Gwen." She knew who they had been in the Enchanted Forest, and they seemed happy to be called by their old names. But she wanted to forget she had been Wendy Darling, and so they never called her that.

Her grades were exemplary. Her teachers never had a bad word to say about her. In fact, when John and Michael came to parent-teacher conferences- for she had no one else -her teachers always mentioned how well she was doing, "in spite of the circumstances."

In spite of the circumstances of her having lived hundreds of years on an island as the prisoner of a mad boy king.

In spite of her being hundreds of years behind everyone else in this world.

In spite of her not really fitting in.

It wasn't that no one had been welcoming. They had. When she'd arrived, Regina had personally welcomed her and thanked her for her role in bringing Henry home. Emma had reassured her she'd be safe now. Henry had immediately introduced her to everyone, and a bunch of girls who looked to be her age took her under their wing. They morphed her into the perfect high schooler, and they thought she was well-adjusted.

They didn't know that every night, she dreamed of Pan. She dreamed of countless nights in dark forests, soft whispers in her ears, chilling laughter, bloody kisses. She dreamed of strands of pearls pulled from mermaid's lifeless bodies and fastened on her own neck. She dreamed of flying, waltzing among the stars. She dreamed of plummeting into the black waters of the ocean, a boy pulling her from the frozen waves and into his arms.

She tossed and turned in her bed, his name a fevered prayer upon her lips, "Peter..._Peter._.." before she'd sit straight up, her throat strangled in a silent scream. Even though she knew he was dead- for it had been she who betrayed him to Emma and the others -she had nightmares of him returning for her. Every night. She had not once slept soundly, but no one could ever tell- she had been used to not sleeping soundly in Neverland, and so was an excellent actress.

The only time she ever had slept soundly was when the boy who usually hunted her had decided to embrace his prey instead, holding her in her slumber.

That night, she shot up in bed, her usual cry of terror locked in her throat. Beads of sweat dripped down her face, and she blinked back tears. That night's nightmare had been unusually vivid. She almost swore she had felt rough, calloused fingers brush her cheek.

Shuddering, she looked up at her window. It was open, the lacy curtains shifting in the breeze.

Odd. She thought she'd left it closed. A bit apprehensive, she approached the window, fingering the lace.

Just then, red and blue lights flashed, and a police car followed Emma's trademark yellow bug down the street. Sirens blaring, an ambulance followed the police car. Lights were switched on in the houses and apartment complexes neighboring hers, and then a woman screamed.

At that bloodcurdling sound, she ran from her room. She threw open the apartment door, then charged down the stairs, ignoring her brothers' tired protests. As she walked into the bitter cold, she noticed the slight body of a boy being loaded onto a stretcher and placed in the ambulance. He was very young- or at least like her, he appeared to be. Three months ago, he had been a Lost Boy in Neverland. He hadn't had a name there- he had been known as First Twin, and it was he and his brother who had agreed to help Emma with Wendy so long as they could go home. Here, he'd called himself Robert.

Numbly, she watched the blood drip from his body. She wasn't sure if he would stay alive, but the ambulance crew's speed and efficiency showed her that at least they were trying to keep him alive. It sped past her, and stunned, she stumbled back onto the sidewalk. Then, carefully, she crept under the crime scene tape that already been placed around the area. No one noticed her as she clung to the shadows, not only because of the horrific scene before them, but because she was well-versed in hiding in shadows.

"What the hell?" Emma breathed, surveying the ground, "What do you think this is?" The sheriff crossed her arms, then raised an eyebrow at her father. David scanned the gruesome text on the ground, then quipped:

"Well, I'd say it's some kind of dark magic, but Regina's not here."

"Actually," the former evil queen stepped out of the sleek black town car that had just arrived, "I am here, and I can assure you, that is _not_ my handiwork." Attired in an expertly-tailored purple skirt and jacket, she pushed aside the police tape.

"This is a crime scene," Emma said, even now a little surprised at Regina's audacity.

"And I'm the mayor," she retorted, "who also happens to have extraordinarily strong magical powers and can restore anything back to the way it was if I disturb it." Emma had no response to that, and Regina elegantly knelt in the dirt. She dipped her finger in the red liquid copiously sprayed about, and pronounced: "Blood."

"Well, yeah, we figured that out," Emma said sarcastically, "Do you know what it's for?"

"Are you asking me if this is blood magic?" the mayor inquired. She waved her hand, the blood that had been on her index finger neatly went back into its place on the ground, "It's not. The words have no meaning, and there are no spells or runes behind it. I think it's just murder, or at least attempted murder," Regina mused, "A bit messier than my style, but effective, nonetheless." She shrugged.

"Regina," David warned.

"What?" the mayor said, "You asked me what it was for. I told you. It's murder. Now go figure it out." With that, she began to walk back to her waiting car.

"What are you going to do?" Emma demanded, somewhat disbelieving that Regina was going to leave so quickly.

"Impose a curfew until this person, or demon, is found."

_Demon_?

Wendy thought she had said the word silently, but she must have said it aloud, for the three adults whipped around to look at the startled teenager.

"Gwen," David said, "You shouldn't be here." His gaze was full of concern, and he clearly was thinking that this was the last thing a traumatized girl needed to see.

"No," Regina crossed her arms, "She shouldn't, should she?" She gave Wendy an accusing glance, but Emma rolled her eyes:

"Regina, stop. Look at Gwen's pajamas. Do you see blood? No. She's innocent. Come on, Gwen." With that, the sheriff took her by the hand and led her back to her apartment. Emma personally delivered her all the way upstairs, where Michael thanked Emma for her thoroughness and John tried to berate his sister. He kept up the string of reproach all the way to her room, where she finally fastened her eyes on him and said:

"John! I'm your _older_ sister, even if I don't look it! Enough!" Then she slammed the door in his face. Sighing, she locked it.

_What is wrong with me?_ she thought, leaning against the wall. Though, she supposed, even aside from being the crazed girl from Neverland, having a murder outside your bedroom window was bound to mess you up a little.

_The window!_ She went immediately to close it, but to her surprise, found it already shut. Unnerved, she stumbled backwards. The last time bizarre things had happened at her window, it had meant...it had meant...

_Stop_, she commanded herself, _Just stop it! He's dead. You know that. John and Michael probably came in and shut it. _

Still, she trembled a bit as she went to lock it. Then her curiosity had got the better of her and she opened it once more, looking out onto the street. If she strained her head just so, she could just make out the words on the ground, written in Robert's blood:

_The devil will come for his Angel._

Immediately, her heart started to pound. No. He was dead. _Dead._ The words, as Regina had said, were meaningless.

Shaking, she went back into her room, pulling the window shut and locking it tight. Then she rolled the shade down, and crawled into her bed, drawing the covers around her. Though it was hard, and the words written in blood echoed over and over in her brain, she eventually fell asleep.

She had no nightmares that night.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>:

Please let me know what you think. Thank you for reading. :)

Also, to everyone who reads "The Truth of the Silver Millennium," the next chapter (I hope) should be up by the end of this month (October).

~ladykikyo1792


	2. Chapter 2: I Wish I Could Forget

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for reading, and thank you to Dreamer-Girl96 for reviewing. :) Hope you enjoy!

~ladykikyo1792

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><p><em>Chapter 2: I Wish I Could Forget<em>

The next day, she sat at lunch next to the girl who had been Grace, the Mad Hatter's daughter. In this world, Grace considered herself to be Gwen Carissima's best friend. Accordingly, Grace was fawning over her:

"Gwen, I heard what happened. Are you okay?" she leaned in towards Wendy, her eyes wide with concern. She almost hugged her, but Wendy shifted out of range of her arms.

"Yes," Wendy replied. She pushed her pasta around her plate, praying her friends would stop interrogating her. The last thing she needed was to keep thinking about the previous night.

"But it sounded awful," Gretel, another "friend," continued. They blatantly wanted her to share more about the event. It wasn't their fault, really. It was more that they'd been in Storybrooke for a very long time, living the same days over and over until the Savior had arrived. Admittedly, more things happened now- Henry's abduction to Neverland being a prime example -but they were things the town's teenagers never got to participate in. In short, they were bored, and this was the most interesting thing to happen in a while. But Wendy wouldn't call it "interesting."

"It was awful," she admitted, "It was terrible." These were familiar adjectives to her, but ones she reserved for truly bad things- eventually, for things that only had to do with Pan.

_The devil will come for his Angel_.

But he was dead, so she could use those adjectives for other things now.

"I heard he died at the hospital," Grace said. Noticing Wendy had flinched, her tone immediately grew apologetic, "I'm sorry, Gwen. I know Dr. Whale did everything he could to save him-"

"Please, let's just not talk about it anymore," she whispered. Flipping a strand of brown hair over her shoulder, she pushed her facial muscles into an approximation of a smile. Playing the role as she had been taught, she made her voice gay and bright:

"Let's talk about something happier. What about the dance?"

"The dance!" Gretel squealed, immediately distracted, "I can't wait!" She clapped her hands together like a small child.

Storybrooke High School, perhaps realizing that they should start acting like a high school and not repeat the same days over and over now that the curse was broken, had begun to add various activities to their calendar. They'd established a football team- primarily composed of some teenage dwarves -but since the team didn't travel, they only really played against each other, so it was more like two football teams for one school. They'd also decided to start adding dances, and the first one, as it was October, was goinhg to be a combination of Homecoming and a Halloween dance. It was the first dance the girls would ever go to, and they were inordinately excited, especially as this was something they would never attend in the Enchanted Forest. Both Grace and Gretel were commoners who would never have gone to a royal ball. A high school dance was not even close to being the same thing, but they treated it as if it were.

"Are you going to ask anyone, Gret?" Grace asked, taking a dainty bite of her sandwich.

Gretel blushed, casting her eyes across the cafeteria, "I really want to go with Jeff." She pointed to the burly football captain, who at the moment, was engaged in the highly mature activity of sending a scoop of mashed potatoes across the table at one of his teammates.

"Ew!" Grace said, aghast, "_The frog prince_!?"

"He's not a frog anymore!" Gretel said defensively. Wendy, even in her morbid thoughts, couldn't help but think that Gretel had a point. Jeff wasn't her type- not that she had one, she reassured herself -but he was certainly much more attractive as a human than he had probably had been as a frog.

"Someone shoot me," Grace, who clearly disagreed, put her head in her hands. Her blonde hair fell onto the table and hid her face.

"Okay, Grace. Well who are you going to ask!?" Gretel demanded, arms crossed. She was clearly upset at having her potential date judged.

"I'm not asking anyone," Grace said haughtily, "I want Chris to ask me." She indicated their recently elected student body president. Less burly than Jeff, he had dark hair and eyes, and was currently talking with the lunch ladies- most likely about putting more diversity into their school lunches, which was something he had campaigned on.

"Chris. You want Chris to go with you," Gretel repeated, stunned. She sat back in her chair in total disbelief.

"Um, yeah. He's handsome!" Grace looked at her like she was insane for not understanding why she would want to go with him. Gretel returned the glare, and emphasized:

"He's _dead_, Grace! Undead, actually, which is even worse! And worse than that, we're _reading about him_ in English Lit!"

"He's not a vampire here!" Grace replied.

"If he's not a vampire," Gretel hissed, "What do you think he's talking to the lunch ladies about? 'Diversity in the lunch menu?' Hello, Earth to Grace!"

"Whatever. He can bite me anytime," Grace waved to Chris as he went back to his seat. He gave her a mesmerizing glance back. The girls were all pulled in for a second before quickly shaking their heads, quite literally getting out of his spell.

"What about you, Gwen? Any special someone in mind?" Grace inquired. She smiled innocently at her.

Wendy couldn't help but recall a thousand other dances she had done. Dances with a mad boy, certainly, but they had been dances among the stars. Dances among the stars would probably never be rivaled by a dance in the gym.

She supposed it was better that way. It would keep her thoughts out of bad memories.

"No," she smiled back at her friends, "I haven't thought about anyone. I don't want anyone, really."

"Keep telling yourself that," someone chuckled darkly behind her. Grace and Gretel whipped around to face the interloper. He was a tall boy, with shaggy yellow-blonde hair and blue eyes. He sported a brown hoodie and jeans in place of his brown cloak, but Wendy still hated him.

"Oh," Grace said, "It's you, Felix. Go away." From her tone, it was clear she thought of him as little better than an insect.

"Yeah," Gretel agreed disdainfully, "No one asked for your opinion!" She squeezed Wendy's hand beneath the table. Both girls were aware how Wendy felt about Felix.

"Isn't it funny, Wendy," Felix taunted, "how some things never leave us?" He addressed her directly, acting as if the other girls didn't even exist. To him, Wendy knew they didn't. His world had always consisted of all boys, Tinkerbell (who didn't really count as a girl to him, since she was a fairy), and Wendy. There simply were not other girls in the equation.

"My name," Wendy said, "is Gwen." She stood up from her chair, then pushed it in, allowing it to scrape into the floor. Without another word, she turned her back on Felix and walked out of the cafeteria. Felix, being Felix, followed her.

"Keep telling yourself that, too," he said. He drawled out the words. Wendy hated that. It had always been an incredibly annoying habit of his.

"I will," Wendy retorted, "and I'm telling you as well: my name is Gwen. I go to Storybrooke High School. I am sixteen years old, and I have never been to Neverland. And I don't know you, or want to hear what you have to say. _And_," she said, relishing the words, "I don't have to listen to you anymore."

With that, Wendy walked into the one place he couldn't follow her: the girls' bathroom.

Then she screamed.

Written across the mirror- again in blood -was another message:

_The Angel thinks she won't fall, but she always falls in the end._

Felix threw open the bathroom door and barged in, holding a switchblade- his modern replacement for his club -in his hand. Although he had never really liked Wendy, nor understood Peter's fascination with her, he was still Peter's second. He knew that his leader would not be pleased if harm came to Wendy, and so that was why he came to her defense. It didn't matter if Pan was dead to Felix- and Felix, to be honest, hadn't accepted that he was. Peter Pan had never failed, and Felix still had faith in his leader. Therefore, he still acted as if Peter was present- and Peter would have slit his best friend's throat with a clean conscience if anything had happened to Wendy. He scanned the message and whistled, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Well, well, well," Felix said, "What do you think of that, Wendy?" He flicked the switchblade closed, putting in back in his pocket, then reached out a hand to steady Wendy, who was swaying on her feet.

"I think-" Wendy stammered, forcing down vomit, "I think- I think someone else is dead. Whose blood is that, Felix!?" she demanded, "You would know. You have to know!" Her eyes were wild. If Peter had ever done anything remotely disturbing, Felix always knew.

Felix shrugged, "I don't know, Wendy. I was in the cafeteria with _you_, remember?" This blood," he rubbed some between his fingers, "is fresh. Still warm, actually," his eyes narrowed, "The body's nearby."

As a trembling Wendy stumbled backwards, using the sink to stay upright, Felix hunched forward. Wendy recognized the position- all the Lost Boys had had their particular hunting habits, and this was Felix's distinct hunting posture. He looked catlike and otherworldly. All that was missing was his hood over his head so that his eyes were hidden, and to her dismay, he actually pulled the hood from his sweatshirt over his head.

Clearly, he was right. Some things never did leave you. Old habits died hard.

Felix pushed open the first stall. Then the second.

Both were empty.

The third. Then the fourth.

Again, empty.

Finally, there was only the last stall left. Felix's gaze drifted to the floor, where he noticed a few spatters of blood.

"Close your eyes," he warned, but Wendy stood frozen as he pushed open the door. Tied to a pipe in the stall with thick, coarse rope, was the body of Second Twin- who in this world, had called himself James. His throat had been slit, and blood was still steaming from the gaping wound.

Wendy screamed again, and at that moment, Mary Margaret stepped into the bathroom:

"What is going on-" Her eyes went from Wendy to the mirror to Felix and at last, to the body.

"Oh my God," she whispered. Then she dragged Gwen out of the bathroom, locking it behind her. She pulled out her cell phone and frantically dialed, then in a panicked voice, said:

"Emma, you need to get here _right now_."

Wendy started to sob.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!

~ladykikyo1792


	3. Chapter 3: A Shared History

_Author's Note: Hi everyone! Thanks so much for reading! Special thank you to sarah0406, MusicLover500, and Hildebrant for their reviews. Also, just as a quick note in reference to the previous chapter: Chris is indeed my version of Dracula. I figured since Dr. Whale (Frankenstein) made an appearance in OUAT, another horror character could as well._

_Anyway, enjoy!_

_~ladykikyo1792_

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: A Shared History <strong>

"You know," Emma said, "I was hoping it would take you a little longer to get in trouble, and I definitely didn't think it would be for murder." The sheriff had figured that some of the Lost Boys would have a rough time adjusting to Storybrooke. They had lived so long without any rules but Pan's that suddenly having to follow them had been a big change. Emma had suspected for a while they'd end up committing a crime, especially Felix- though she thought it would be something like robbery, especially as the Lost Boys, and Peter's second in particular, had been used to taking what they wanted. Shaking her head, she snapped the handcuffs on Felix's wrists.

The boy laughed, "You think I did this?" He seemed to find the very notion ridiculous, much to Emma's annoyance.

"Well, yeah," she replied, glaring at him, "I mean, Mary Margaret walked in on you next to the body, plus you apparently knew exactly where it was-"

"He didn't do it," Wendy said softly. She was sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. Someone had wrapped a blanket wrapped around her, which she half-heartedly placed around her shoulders. Supposedly, it was for shock, but Wendy wasn't truly shocked by the body. Horrified, yes. Heartbroken, yes. But not shocked. She'd seen death before, and slit throats before. Though it hadn't been here.

Mary Margaret bent down, "It's okay, Wendy. You're safe now." She put her arm around Wendy, attempting to be comforting, but the young girl insisted, her voice clear and strong:

"It wasn't Felix." She looked Emma directly in the eyes, but the sheriff was quickly distracted:

"Swan! I came as soon as I heard!" A man clad in a black leather jacket, wearing a hook for a hand, ran up to join their little group outside the bathroom. Both Felix and Wendy knew him well. Upon spotting the boy in handcuffs, he greeted Felix neutrally:

"Felix."

"Hook," Felix spat at his feet. His eyes blazed with hatred. Had he not been cuffed, he probably would have hit the pirate standing before him. Hook had taken away one of his closest friends in Neverland; killed Rufio with the very hook he wore today. Felix, even now, wanted revenge, and both of them knew it.

"No need for that, lad," Hook said, "I'm well-aware you don't like me, and I don't like you, but we can at least play nice in polite company." Casting a glance down at Wendy, his voice was full of pity as he murmured:  
>"Love, I'm sorry you had to see this again."<p>

Wendy nodded to him, but said nothing. She and Hook had always had a rather unique relationship. Hook had always treated her courteously, and had ordered his crew never to attack her. He had held her for ransom, once, but he had never hurt her. In return, if Wendy happened to see him wandering the island alone, she'd never mentioned a word to Peter. Hook and Wendy hadn't been enemies, but they hadn't been allies either- they couldn't be. The role Peter gave her didn't allow for that.

Oblivious to their complicated history, Mary Margaret repeated,"'Again?'" She was utterly aghast. Despite the fact that Wendy was far older than she looked, it was clear Mary Margaret still thought of her as a young girl. It bothered her immensely that Wendy had been exposed to something so terrible before.

"Yes, again," Hook answered emphatically. He said nothing else on the subject, well-aware it wasn't his place to share.

Seizing the awkward silence as an opportunity, Wendy stated again, "Felix didn't do it."

"Wendy-" Emma started. She gave her the look Wendy resented- the look that people gave her when they were remembering she was the crazy girl from Neverland and not the popular Gwen she played day to day.

"I'm telling you, Felix didn't do it!" she said, her pitch rising a bit. Why didn't any of them _believe_ her? And why was Felix so happy about the situation? He was being _arrested_.

"All right then," the sheriff challenged her, "If Felix didn't do it, who did?" She looked Wendy straight in the eyes, daring her to say differently.

Wendy couldn't bring herself to say the answer, because it was impossible and terrifying and she didn't even want to think of it. She wouldn't let herself think of it. Peter Pan was dead. Dead boys, even boys who never grew up, did not go around killing those who'd betrayed them.

Still, she did find the strength to say, "Felix beats things to death. He doesn't cut throats. He clubs them down." Over the years, she'd learned that about him. He liked watching skulls get bashed in and listening to bones break. Many years ago, Wendy had wondered if it was something to do with what happened to him before he came to Neverland, but she never asked. Many of the Lost Boys had bleak histories full of abuse and abandonment, and none ever talked about them.

Mary Margaret and Emma shared a long look. Then Emma reached into Felix's pocket, withdrawing the switchblade:

"He's got a knife. Last I checked, you can cut people's throats with knives."

"Yes, among other things. How observant of you," Regina's tone was like acid as she swept into the room. Today, she was attired in a black and white pant suit, with a diamond necklace and matching earrings. Apparently, she'd decided another murder- especially that of a child -demanded her attention. It certainly had to be more important than whatever else she did all day. Wendy had always been curious about how Regina even ran a town that was quite literally off the map.

"Oh," Regina said, "It's you again." She glared at Wendy, crossing her arms. She evidently thought Wendy had something to do with the murders, and made no secret of it. Realizing the source of the tension, Emma cut in:

"Regina, we've been over this. Gwen's innocent. She saw the body. That's it."

"And none of you think it's strange that she's been found at the scene of two murders in two days?" Regina riposted.

"It's bad luck," Mary Margaret stood up, immediately coming to Wendy's defense, "Besides, we caught him." She gestured to Felix, who started laughing again. Under his breath, he muttered:

"You wish."

Wendy's heart started to pound as she wondered if she was the only one who heard him.

Hook noted, "Actually, as much as I dislike the boy, I don't think he's responsible for it either. I've seen him kill, and Wendy's right- it's not like this. Besides, Swan- there's no blood on the knife, or on his clothes." Although Regina, Emma, and Hook all examined Felix from head to toe, they couldn't deny that his clothes weren't stained. His brown hoodie had crumbs on it, but that wasn't exactly unusual for a boy who'd come from lunch, and his jeans were ripped, but perfectly clean.

Stubbornly, Emma retorted, "Well, until we find anything else, he's under arrest. We found him with a weapon at the scene of the crime, with the body still warm. I'm taking him in to the station." She pushed a still laughing Felix up the stairs, out the door, and into her car.

Hook paused, then said to Wendy, "I hope we're both wrong, love. If not..." he trailed off and shook his head. Then he followed Emma and Felix outside.

As Wendy watched them go, she found herself praying they were wrong, too.

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><p><em>Author's Note:<br>_Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!

~ladykikyo1792


	4. Chapter 4: Playing Pretend

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter!  
><em>

_~ladykikyo1792_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Playing Pretend<strong>

That afternoon, Wendy was sitting in her room. She had math homework to do, but she couldn't concentrate. Even though she'd told Mary Margaret she was okay to stay in school for the rest of the day, she hadn't been able to think of anything but Peter.

Most of the Lost Boys used bows and arrows. Felix used a club. Some had spears. But only one person on Neverland had a dagger. Only one person put Lost Boys to death by slitting their throats. She sighed. Maybe the others had been right. At the time, she'd been so sure Felix hadn't killed First and Second Twin. But thinking back...it could easily have been him. Felix knew her almost as well as Peter. He would have known aggravating her would make her want to get away. He also would have known the only place she could seek out to get away from him was the girls' bathroom. And he would have known just the right things to rattle her.

Then there was the switchblade.

Part of her still refused to think of anyone but Peter using a dagger. That same part of her insisted that Felix, if given the choice, would never use one, especially to kill- he'd think of it as disrespectful to Pan. Another part of her, though, knew that he had been Pan's second, his right-hand man, deputy in all things. So with Pan gone, wouldn't Felix have become the leader of the Lost Boys? And wouldn't that new leader's first act have been to punish those who'd betrayed the old?

That made sense to her too. In fact, Felix could have imitated Pan's style of killing as a weird sort of homage to him.

But maybe there was something she was missing. Perhaps there had been another Lost Boy with a dagger.

Only one way to find out, she thought grimly. She swallowed and slid open her desk drawer. As she pressed the hidden catch, the false bottom came up, revealing a tattered book. Gently, she picked it up, trying to make herself open it.

When she'd first come back from Neverland, her brothers had insisted she go for therapy to Dr. Hopper. They apparently were worried she'd have Stockholm Syndrome or something- not that she had ever agreed with Pan's methods. Still, they were her legal guardians, and so she couldn't refuse. Over the course of many sessions, Dr. Hopper had suggested that the only way she could learn to let go of her memories was by writing them down. Once they were written down, she could forget them.

"Think of it as writing an old book," he'd told her, "one that you finally get to close." Smiling, he'd given her the worn book to emphasize that. He'd also given her a shiny new one- this one pink and with a golden lock -but she hadn't opened it yet. She hadn't felt she'd become Gwen just yet, and Gwen was who that diary was for. She told herself she wasn't quite Wendy, either. But it was Wendy's words and Wendy's memories she needed now, if nothing else than to reassure herself that Peter's days as a killer- Peter's days at all -were well and truly over.

_I've long since lost track of the days here. Days blend into nights and nights blend into days. I don't even know how old I am- Peter doesn't let us celebrate birthdays..._

Wendy flipped the page. She knew that time didn't exist in Neverland. That wasn't surprising.

_Today Peter let me hunt with the Lost Boys. He used to be absolutely against it, but ever since the incident with Hook...well, he's agreed that I may need to learn to defend myself. He hates it though. Secretly, I think it's because he doesn't want me to be in a situation where he can't save me. But he'll never admit it. _

_Or, maybe that's just me hoping such things. More likely it's because he doesn't want to miss a situation where he can fight Hook. _

_This is the first time I've ever had a weapon in my hand. I've got a bow and arrow, though mine are smaller than the boys' bows. I've never seen them hunt before- they always brought back food for their "mother" to cook (luckily, I've never seen what the meat used to be). They're a bit savage in their excitement..._

Wendy sighed. This wasn't exactly something she wanted to recall either, but she knew she had definitely listed their weapons a few pages after this one, because she had been fascinated after that hunt. Accordingly, she flipped the page.

_...I just can't believe how confident they are. Most of the boys- Slightly, Tootles, the Twins, and quite a few others -carry bow and arrow, and they're lethal with it. Nibs has a slingshot. The stones he uses are dipped in dreamshade. Curly likes a spear, and Felix uses a club. Rufio and Peter use daggers..._

At that, Wendy sucked in a breath. Before Felix was Peter's second, there was Rufio. Wild, vivacious, rebellious Rufio. He was almost as good as Peter, and the boys loved him almost as much as Peter (Wendy, in fact, had been fond of him too). Rufio was a little less harsh than Pan. Instead of killing those who disobeyed, or letting them "rest" in the Mermaids' Lagoon for a while, Rufio would tie them to trees and make them wait while the other boys came up with a prank to scare them. If they had done something truly reprehensible, Rufio often suggested simply sending the boy away from Neverland, and he would not be allowed to return. Consequently, while the boys feared Pan, they admired Rufio, and Peter was well-aware of that.

Wendy was pretty sure that was why Rufio ended up dead. Peter told everyone Hook did it, and it was true that Rufio had fallen in battle. However, though Peter had no qualms about his boys ending up injured at the hands of the pirates, none had ever been killed- until Rufio. To the boys, it only made them hate Hook more, because he had done the impossible: taken a Lost Boy's life.

To Wendy, it seemed awfully strange. However, she didn't dare voice her suspicions.

Shaking her head, she quickly closed the book. Aside from the fact she didn't want to think of any of them anymore- let alone Rufio, who had always been kind to her -she didn't want to consider the awful truth in the diary: there were only two Lost Boys who used daggers. Both of them were dead.

Or at least, they were supposed to be.

Just then, Wendy's cell phone beeped. She flopped onto her bed and opened it. Inside was a text message from Grace:

Grace: Hey...that was crazy today. I know you're probably sitting alone thinking about it, and I know you think that's how you should deal with it, but I think you could use a distraction. Gret and I are going costume shopping for the dance- want to come?

Wendy considered. Grace was right- sitting alone was how she wanted to deal with it. Seeing two massacred bodies of two people she had known for a long time in the span of two days...it was a lot. She wasn't quite sure how she was supposed to just go costume shopping and pretend like nothing was wrong.

Then she heard the telltale car horn outside. Apparently, Grace had made the decision for her. Groaning, she grabbed her jacket and ran down the stairs. Gretel waved from the passenger seat of the car, while Grace honked on the horn.

"Come on, Gwen! The store closes in an hour! We have to hurry!" Gretel grinned at her.

"Only you would decide to go costume shopping with one hour to spare," Wendy said. She slammed the car door shut, then snuggled into the warmth of the backseat.

Grace winked, "Yeah, but you still came." Then she floored it, and the girls were speeding down the streets of Storybrooke, keeping their fingers crossed the new sheriff wouldn't give Grace yet another ticket.

* * *

><p>Inside the costume shop, Wendy was waiting for Grace and Gretel to try on their fourth costumes (each). Neither of them could decide who they wanted to be, and while it wouldn't have been a problem for normal teenagers, none of them were normal. Grace and Gretel both were worried about offending someone in the town. Originally, the pair had wanted to go as the Evil Queen and Snow White, respectively.<p>

Then Wendy had pointed out that might not be the best idea. Reluctantly, Grace and Gretel agreed, and returned the pretty dresses to the racks.

Since then, the girls had been through a myriad of costumes- they thought Cinderella wouldn't mind if they attended the dance as her, and they knew Belle wouldn't. However, they were pretty sure Rumplestiltskin would mind if someone went as his wife, and no one wanted to be on his bad side.

Finally, Wendy picked out two costumes herself, and tossed them to her friends. She was fairly certain she had solved their dilemma.

"Here!" she said to Grace, "You can be Alice. Didn't your father know her?" At least, Wendy thought Jefferson- better known as the Mad Hatter -would know Alice.

Grace considered, "Yeah. He said she was a great lady. I never met her though." She looked a little wistful.

"And she's not in Storybrooke. Perfect. Try it on!" Wendy commanded with a grin.

Obligingly, Grace took the short blue dress and disappeared into the dressing room.

"What about me?" Gretel inquired, sounding a little jealous.

"Hmm..." Wendy said, "I think you should go as the Red Queen." She gingerly handed over an equally short red frock to a shocked Gretel.

Gretel looked up and down at the dress and back to Wendy, "You think I should go as the Queen of Hearts? Cora? Regina's psychotic mother!?" horrified, she added, "How is that any better than going as Regina?" It wasn't better- actually, it was worse. Regina would definitely be offended by that particular costume, and Gretel had no desire to upset the former Evil Queen either.

"No," Wendy pursed her lips, "If you read 'Alice in Wonderland' and 'Through the Looking-Glass' in English last week- like you were supposed to -you would know that the Red Queen and the Queen of Hearts are two separate characters. As far as I know, the Red Queen's not in Storybrooke either. Come on, Gretel! The red would look so pretty on you! And you can both keep with the villain/heroine theme you wanted."

Gretel looked doubtful, but obediently went into the dressing room as well. A few minutes later, the two girls emerged. First, they turned to each other, and started squealing. Then they looked at Wendy, absolutely ecstatic.

"Oh my God, Gwen! These are perfect!" Grace gushed. She fingered the white apron on the front of her gown, playing with the lace pattern.

"We look amazing!" Gretel enthused, spinning around in the dress. Her red petticoat flew into the air around her.

"You both look beautiful," Wendy agreed, "Truly." The blue showed off Grace's fair blonde hair, and the red set off Gretel's pale skin tone.

Abruptly noticing that Wendy herself had no costume, Gretel interjected, "Wait, where's yours?"

"Oh," Wendy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I haven't really found one I like, and the shop's almost closing, so-" She gestured weakly to the clock behind her. Honestly, she'd gotten so taken up in finding the other girls costumes and giving them critique that she really hadn't even thought to look for herself. She didn't mind too much, though, as she was - much to her surprise -having a lot of fun.

Grace frowned, "Okay, well, we're going to pay, but we need to come back on Thursday. We need to make sure you get a great costume, too."

"Of course," Wendy smiled and squeezed Grace's hand, "Also...thank you for taking me out tonight. You were right. I really did need the distraction." That was a bit of an understatement, but it didn't change the fact that Wendy truly was grateful for Grace's idea.

"What are friends for?" Grace smiled back at her. Then, she ran to the cashier, who had just announced that if Grace didn't pay right now, she wouldn't be getting her costume at all tonight.

Despite herself, and despite everything that had happened, Wendy couldn't help but laugh.

Was this what normal life was like?

* * *

><p>When Wendy returned home, she was smiling. Even though she originally hadn't wanted to go out with the girls, she had to admit she had fun. For the first time, she'd actually felt like Gwen- Gwen, the sixteen year old who was happy in Storybrooke. That Gwen would definitely go Halloween costume shopping with her friends. That Gwen would end up picking out the perfect costumes for them. That Gwen would be seriously considering texting Prince Ferdinand, who in this world, had gone by Fred for a while. He was handsome, chivalrous, intelligent, and according to Grace (who knew all the school gossip), he had a raging crush on her.<p>

Maybe she did want a date for the dance after all.

Still happy, she reached for the brand new diary that Dr. Hopper had given her- the same diary that even earlier that day, she hadn't felt ready to open. She flipped to the first page, pen poised, and ready to write her very first entry as Gwen. Then the pen clattered to the floor, and she clapped both her hands over her mouth.

The page wasn't blank.

Written in scratchy, angular writing, were two words:

_Hello, Angel._

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><p><em>Author's Note: <em>

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

~ladykikyo1792


	5. Chapter 5: Angels and Demons

_Author's Note: _

Thank you so much to sarah0406, Hildebrant, Dreamer-Girl96, and MusicLover500 for your reviews! It makes me so happy to know you all like the story. And I'm creeping myself out with it too lol! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks again for reading!

~ladykikyo1792

* * *

><p>It had been four days since Wendy Darling received a message in her pretty new diary. In those four days, she had spent most of her time playing pretend- pretending it never happened, and praying it would go away.<p>

After all, Peter Pan had never called her "Angel." To him, she had always been "Wendy-bird-" his way of mocking her original, graceless entrance into Neverland. If he were to write her a message, even from beyond the grave, wouldn't it be addressed that way? To "Wendy-bird?" Or even "Bird?" Certainly not to "Angel."

Besides, she'd never opened that diary before. That message could have been written ages ago. Maybe Dr. Hopper hadn't even known it was there. And she didn't know where he'd gotten the diary- it could have come from Mr. Gold's shop, for all she knew, and Dr. Hopper had simply thought it was pretty and appropriate for his choice of therapy. It was certainly possible someone had opened it before and written that message.

Or so she told herself.

The messages written in blood, though, had frightened her. She was grateful that the one in the diary was ink. Still, it didn't change the fact that the messages in the murders and the message in her diary were both addressed to "Angel." And if she was Angel, what did that mean? Who was writing to her? What did they want?

Though, she reasoned, it might have been Felix. Felix would have thought it appropriate to punish traitors of Pan, and so it was plausible he murdered the twins. It was also plausible this was Felix's way of trying to punish her, for she had been the greatest betrayer of Pan. Killing her, therefore, would not be a good punishment. She deserved far worse. Since Felix knew Peter terrified her more than anyone, what better way to torment her than make her think he had returned? She would live in fear of that for the rest of her days, and suffer eternal guilt from the boys' deaths (though interestingly enough, no one else had died since Felix had been put in jail).

Still, it seemed too clever for Felix.

But not for Pan.

Emma hadn't believed Wendy that Felix was innocent- well, at least innocent for those particular murders. Regina clearly thought she was somehow responsible. She couldn't go to either of them for help, which left her with three options:

1. Hook, which was an idea she discarded immediately. While he clearly was thinking along the same lines as her, he was in love with Emma and very loyal to her. Wendy didn't trust him.  
>2. The remaining Lost Boys. They'd believe her, certainly. They'd probably started thinking the same thing themselves. However, some of them had to be in on the plot. They had to know the truth, and it wasn't like they would tell her. Furthermore, if Peter truly was back, they wouldn't dare help her for fear of angering him (though, she reasoned, they wouldn't hurt her either).<br>3. Tinkerbell.

So it was that she found herself on the fairy's doorstep after school, hand poised above the knocker. She wasn't exactly sure what reception she would get. Tinkerbell and Wendy weren't friends. They hadn't been friends- ever. Nevertheless, she was the only person Wendy had in Storybrooke- or at least the only one who she could trust. Gathering her courage, she grasped the knocker, then banged it on the door twice. The echo seemed unbearably loud.

Within moments, the fairy, who sported a green sweater dress, appeared at the door. When she saw it was Wendy, her face fell. Wordlessly, she waved her inside. She guided Wendy to the couch in her living room, then grabbed what she initially thought was a pot of tea. To her surprise, the fairy filled two teacups with whiskey. The girl raised an eyebrow, but before she could ask about its origin, Tinkerbell said:

"I was wondering when I would see you." Even though the teacup only contained whiskey, she stirred it anyway, avoiding Wendy's eyes.

"What gave it away?" Wendy replied morbidly. She settled back into the couch, clutching a pillow to her chest. She needed comfort from something.

"Well," Tink said darkly, "two Neverlanders killed in a gruesome manner practiced only by Pan, and another arrested for the killings, but entirely unconcerned about the situation. I expected you to visit." A question hung unspoken at the end of that sentence: _Why else would you be here?_

Wendy sighed, deciding it was better to get the topic out in the open, "There's more than just murder going on here, Tink. There've been messages-"

"I know," Tink pushed a worn copy of the Storybrooke Mirror towards her. It was obvious she had read the headlines detailing both killings multiple times. The newspaper was badly wrinkled, and the ink had even streaked a bit. The black letters looked as if they were bleeding.

"No," Wendy gulped, "More than that." This time, Tink raised an eyebrow. Wendy silently pulled the pink diary from her backpack and handed it to the fairy. Cautiously, Tink opened it, as if expecting something to jump out at her.

"'Hello, Angel,'" she read aloud. Then she stared at Wendy, her tone simultaneously full of pity and fear:

"The messages were for you." It sounded like a death sentence.

"I think so," Wendy admitted.

"From him," Tink verified, refusing to speak the name.

"I think so," the girl repeated and looked away, unable to meet her hostess' gaze.

"But he's dead," the fairy protested. Wendy couldn't tell if Tink was trying to argue with Wendy's assertion Peter was alive, or convince herself that he was dead.

Wendy swallowed, "I thought so. Everyone believed he was dead, Tink, but why did we believe it? Because we saw him die? You and I have seen Peter do many impossible things. That's not proof of anything- not with him." Frustrated, she replaced the pillow back in its original position on the couch.

Tink sighed, "The Charmings believed it because it was an easy thing to believe. With Pan gone, Henry was safe. They could all return home. For us," she trailed off, deep in thought, "perhaps we believed it because it would give us our freedom. Finally." She picked up her teacup and took a long sip.

Wendy paused, her curiosity getting the better of her, "Tink, what happened? With you and Pan? When I first came to Neverland, you were in his circle. Not part of the Lost Boys, of course," she amended, "but a part of the camp. He trusted you. Then, when I came back- well, you weren't." She supposed that was the politest way to phrase it.

Tink smiled sadly, "I got too close." She took another sip from her teacup, and looked out the window. It was clear that she wasn't observing her garden, but rather remembering another time in another world.

"What do you mean?" Wendy asked, utterly confused.

"How old do you think the Lost Boys are, Wendy? When they first came to Neverland, before they were frozen at their ages?" Tink inquired.

"Well...the littlest would be six, I think. The oldest seventeen."

"Remember then, that they were frozen. Physically, they stayed that age. Mentally, though...they grew. Even Peter himself grew, though he wouldn't say it, and wouldn't allow any of them to, either. Now, how old do you think I am?" at Wendy's puzzled look, Tink added, "If I were physically a human."

"Nineteen?" Wendy hazarded, "Twenty, at most. But you're a fairy, Tink! You're so much older than that!" She truly didn't understand where Tink was going with this.

"So are the Lost Boys," Tink shrugged, "but Pan wants the Lost Boys to be entirely devoted to him. He began to suspect one of them wasn't." The fairy stared at Wendy for a long time, waiting for her to grasp her meaning.

At last, Wendy said, "He thought one of them _liked_ you?" her jaw dropped, "You can't be serious." She couldn't picture any of the Lost Boys she knew having romantic feelings for anyone, never mind a fairy.

Tink, a bit offended, replied, "One of them did like me, Wendy, and I liked him back. Very much," her tone grew sad, "In fact, I loved him. Pan knew that, and he also knew that over time, that boy would grow to love me. Since Pan wants the boys to put him above all else, he couldn't keep me around. So one day he kicked me out of camp, and gave me this agreement: if I stayed away from them, he would let me live. No one on Neverland would harm me, and I wouldn't starve to death. I would always be able to provide for myself. That's why I was exiled, and not killed. I had always played by his rules, so by his own laws, he couldn't kill me," she shook her head, "Though the Twins did break the rules, and now they're dead."

"Do you think he'll kill all of them?" Wendy said softly, "All the boys?" She couldn't imagine that much blood on one person's hands, even Peter's. Especially when they were boys he had considered his family for years.

"No," Tink shook her head, "Only those that willingly betrayed him. There were plenty who stayed loyal, and were forced to come here by the Charmings. They will live, and be rewarded, I bet." She shrugged.

"What about me?" Wendy said, finally addressing the real reason she'd visited. She had known Tink would believe her, so she hadn't needed to check that. And she was well-aware that if Peter was back, and decided to kill the boys, there was no way to stop him. But what would he do to her, the greatest of traitors?

"I don't know," the fairy replied, "You're a special case. If you think about the messages, though..." she picked up the newspaper, then scanned the article, "It says 'The devil will come for his Angel.' It's pretty clear to me that he hasn't forgotten what you did. The second part's more complicated," she bit her lip, "'The Angel thinks she won't fall, but she always falls in the end.'"

The two sat in thought for several minutes. If the messages were from Peter, then the messages wouldn't be simple and straightforward. They would be a riddle, because he thought of everything- even murder -as a game.

"It's a code of some kind," Tink said, "I just don't know for what. This isn't something he would use. It's not like he's religious!" She snorted at the very idea. Peter Pan? The Boy Who Never Grew Up? Ludicrous. He'd defied nature. The last thing he would do was worship something that supposedly created nature. Since Peter had defeated nature, he would consider himself supreme, not a god. Aside from that, Peter never thought there was anyone better than him.

Still, Tink's exclamation gave Wendy an idea. They had just finished reading "Dante's Inferno" several weeks before. In general, her class had hated it, and she hated it even more now that she realized the significance of Peter's words.

"It's a play on words. Fallen angels are angels who serve the devil," Wendy said, "They live in hell. Neverland isn't paradise for anyone but him, so it's hell."

"Wendy," Tink said nervously, "You've been to Neverland twice, and you've left twice?"

"Yes."

"Then you've 'fallen' into hell twice. You've escaped twice. 'She always falls in the end...'" The fairy was starting to look sick.

"He's saying no matter how many times I escape, I'll always go back there," Wendy said miserably. She put her head in her hands. She'd only been away from Neverland for three months. While it was true she didn't quite fit in here yet, she had learned the other day that she _could_. If she tried to be Gwen, and let go of Neverland, then it was possible for her to have a home here.

"Wendy," Tink whispered, horrified, "It's not just that. He _is_ coming for you. But with this," she pointed to the diary, "He's telling you he's already here."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em>

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! :)

~ladykikyo1792


	6. Chapter 6: Let's Play

_Author's Note: _

Thank you so much to another-silly-girl, Hildebrant, sarah0406, the Guest, and MusicLover500 for your reviews! I love hearing from you. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks for reading!

~ladykikyo1792

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Let's Play<strong>

Wendy couldn't begin to fathom what Tink had told her. Peter was here? Where? How could he possibly hide in a town touched by magic? How could no one have noticed how very different his magic was? Perhaps more importantly, in a town so small that everyone knew each other, how had no one noticed the boy who was so obviously out of place?

Apparently, no one had, and that scared her most of all. Because if no one had noticed, that meant Peter could be anywhere.

At first, she hadn't been sure what to do with the information. Emma had already made it clear that she didn't believe her. Regina wanted to blame her, despite the fact Felix was in jail. Mary Margaret would put it up to her being traumatized, and David would agree with his wife. Perhaps Hook could talk some sense into them, but when could she ever get him alone to tell him that they had been right?

Still, Wendy knew there was at least one Lost Boy she had to warn: Tootles. She had always cared for him, out of all the Lost Boys. He was constantly bumbling and stumbling about after the others, trying desperately to be involved in games that he was so unequipped to play. He was a mediocre hunter, at best, and was best known for "shooting" Wendy out of the sky when she first came to Neverland. His arrow had grazed her hand, causing her to flinch in pain- and let go of the Shadow. When she realized what was happening, she had futilely thrown her arms out in an attempt to imitate the Shadow and fly. Of course, it didn't work- she had no pixie dust and hadn't been taught yet -and she plummeted towards the waves.

* * *

><p><em>Peter, though she didn't know he was Peter then, swooped in, and at the last second, caught her. He held her in his arms easily, as if she was weightless. Her mouth dropped open, stunned by the beautiful, bronze-haired boy who had rescued her. She couldn't seem to stop herself from staring into his fey green eyes. They glowed with an eerie light.<em>

_"Hello, Bird," he'd said, grinning at her._

_That moment, the very first moment they'd met, had been burned into her mind forever._

_She saw a hint of his darkness shortly afterwards. Peter flew her to the shore, and set her down on the warm sand. The Lost Boys emerged from the jungle as one (Neverland had been a jungle when she first arrived; it had changed drastically on her second visit), each toting bows and arrows. They stared at her, open-mouthed, unable to understand the anomaly of a girl in a white nightgown. She was undeniably pretty, and they felt they had never seen something so pretty before._

_Nibs blurted, "Who are you?"_

_"She's a _lady!_" Slightly admonished, "Be nice!" Slightly thought he knew everything, and claimed to remember parts of his life before he arrived at the island. The other boys remembered certain things, of course, but unlike Slightly, they never claimed to remember anything good._

_Unable to suppress a smile, Wendy said, "I'm Wendy. Wendy Moira Angela Darling." She curtsied, and the boys murmured their names in an incoherent blur. It was if they couldn't introduce themselves fast enough._

_Peter's voice, though, rang out loud and clear, "I'm Peter. Peter Pan." He swept her an elegant bow, eyes dancing. Wendy blushed and looked away. She fingered the sides of her gown, shy in the presence of such a handsome boy._

_Suddenly, Peter stepped forward and grabbed her hand, "You're hurt." He held it up and examined it. Sure enough, she had a cut on the inside of her palm, and it was bleeding. The injury had first come to his attention because he noticed the blood on the skirt of her nightgown._

_At once, he spun around and demanded, "Who did it?" He glared at each boy in turn, and they faced him, pale and silent. None dared speak._

_"I said," Peter repeated himself, his tone like ice, "Who did it?"_

_When he was met by silence once again, he said, "It's an arrow wound. You are the only ones hunting in this area of the island right now. It was one of you. Tell me who. Now."_

_That was the first time Wendy had ever heard of his omniscience on the island- he knew where every single person was at all times -but she didn't notice it then. She was more preoccupied with the cut on on her hand, which now that Peter had pointed it out, she realized hurt. She was also more preoccupied with Peter's reaction._

_"Very well," Peter sighed, "One of you took blood from her, and one of you must give it back. That's only playing fair. And if you won't tell me," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I'll just pick." He began to unsheath his dagger and start towards the end of the line, where the newest Lost Boy- who at the time was Curly -was white as a ghost._

_At that, Tootles, who was the most kind-hearted of them all, stepped forward, "The arrow was mine, Peter." He tried to stand tall and unafraid, but his voice trembled. Nevertheless, he looked Peter straight in the eyes._

_"Well then," Peter said, "You will die." This time, he unsheathed his dagger fully. The silver blade glinted in the sunlight, and the dagger swept in a graceful arc towards Tootles' throat._

_"Wait!" Wendy shouted, "Peter, wait!" She ran forward, placing her hand on his sword arm. The boy turned to her, surprised less at her reaction and more that she had dared to stop him. He gazed at her, absolutely fascinated._

_Heart pounding, Wendy said, "It's okay. You don't need to kill him. You shouldn't, actually. He didn't mean to take blood from me." She didn't move a muscle, though she subtly saw Tootles start to sidle backwards._

_Peter was confused, "But he did. And the rules say blood for blood."_

_"The rules?" This time, it was Wendy's turn to be confused. She didn't understand._

_"Yes, the rules. This place," he gestured to the island around him, "runs on dreams, and imagination-"_

_"Neverland's wonderful!" Slightly interjected, his smile a little too bright, "We play games all day-" It was obvious he was trying to lessen the tension._

_Peter quickly cut him off, "We do play games, and we always have fun. But in a place that runs on dreams and imagination, you can't have too many dreams competing with each other. It would ruin them." He looked at her expectantly, as though she should have seen this logic was obvious._

_"I see," Wendy replied, though she really didn't._

_"So to keep them from ruining each other, one imagination runs the island above all other's."_

_"Whose imagination?" she asked, although she already knew the answer. It couldn't be anyone else's._

_"Mine," Peter smirked again, confirming her suspicions, "and because my imagination runs the island...I make the rules for the games." There was something sinister about the way he said it. Involuntarily, she shivered. Then, she shook her head, refusing to be intimidated. She'd come here for adventures, after all! She couldn't start an adventure afraid, could she?_

_Gathering her courage, Wendy said boldly, "Then change the rules."_

_Peter cocked an eyebrow at her, "The rules aren't meant to be changed. The boys have always followed them. And we've had fun, haven't we, boys?" All the Lost Boys, with the exception of Tootles, cheered raucously. Wendy wasn't sure if it was genuine or if they didn't want Peter's anger directed at them. In retrospect, she would come to believe it was both._

_"Yes, but I'm not a boy, Peter," Wendy said, "I'm a girl. From what I understand, you've never had a girl here before, have you?" She looked at the boys for confirmation, and they shook their heads._

_"What about Tink?" Curly asked softly. He blinked, puzzled._

_"She doesn't count," Slightly retorted. He rolled his eyes at the new boy, as if wondering how long it would take him to learn the ways of Neverland._

_"Then you've never had a girl play. Let's make a new game, since there's a new player!" Wendy said conspiratorially. She looked Peter directly in the eyes, utterly fearless now. For his part, Peter was intrigued by her. Aside from the fact that she was an enigma anyway- the Shadow never brought girls -she was the only person who had challenged him in _ages_._

_She was interesting._

_"All right," Peter sheathed his dagger, "Tootles lives." Carelessly, he waved Tootles away. The boy let out a great breath he had been holding, and a few of the younger boys ran to him and hugged him._

_Then Peter stepped towards Wendy. He was so close to her she could feel his breath on her lips. Then he smiled at her, all traces of menace gone. Instead he was the magnetic, mesmerizing boy she had first seen, and he announced:_

_"Let's play."_

* * *

><p>Forcing back the memories, Wendy made her way to room 306. She'd skipped her own class- the first time she'd ever done something so rebellious -to intercept Tootles before he left for lunch. She couldn't figure out how else to get him by himself and warn him. He lived with Felix (not by choice; it was merely the way Emma had ended up assigning them to various homes). Wendy knew she couldn't trust many people now, but Tootles- poor, Tootles, who after her, was the greatest traitor -she could. And Tootles would most certainly be dead if he didn't watch his back.<p>

The bell rang a few seconds later, and freshmen streamed out of the classroom. Several of them gave her curious looks, and four briefly spoke to her (two even tried to ask her to the dance, who she politely declined), but she ignored them in favor of the boy she sought. As she expected, he was out last of all, lugging a ripped backpack along behind him.

"Wendy!" his eyes widened as he spotted her, "I mean, Gwen-" A few books dropped out of his bag, and he awkwardly rushed to retrieve them. Wendy caught one and quickly returned it, immediately launching into her warning:

"Tootles, that doesn't matter. Listen to me. You're in incredible danger-"

"So are you," he replied mirthlessly, "Wendy, why are you here? Why aren't you hiding with the sheriff?" He knew what she was to Pan, and he also knew that Pan would stop at nothing to find her.

"They don't believe me," the girl sighed, keeping her voice low, "They don't want to." She looked back and forth down the hallway, trying to ensure no one overheard them. There were maybe five people left, and they slammed their lockers shut. Oblivious to the pair, they chattered and headed towards the cafeteria.

"But he _is_ back," Tootles said. He slumped against the wall, slowly sinking to the floor.

"Yes," Wendy confirmed, "and he's going after everyone who betrayed him. Tootles, it's only a matter of time before he goes after you, too. Please, promise me you won't go anywhere alone!" she slid down next to him, putting her own notebooks in a neat pile by her feet, "You've got to stay with someone, always."

"Who can I stay with?" Tootles said miserably. He put his head in his hands, ready to cry. He had always been the outcast, even in Neverland. Part of the group, but just on the fringes. He knew what it was like to be on the outside looking in. Normally it just hurt, but now, it could be deadly.

"Move in with Nibs and Slightly. They betrayed him too, and he'll go after them," she said, "but everyone who's died so far has been by themselves. Don't leave each other alone. And you're almost always in classes with each other. That way...hopefully...you each have a chance."

"And what about you, Wendy?" Tootles inquired, "You can't go with anyone. John and Michael can't protect you. No one at school knows him. Tink's a traitor and probably marked to die. Hook won't help you, not when he's got Emma and Henry to protect."

Wendy swallowed, for she had no answer to that. The truth was, she was probably the least safe out of everyone.

Just then, the lights flickered and dimmed. A strange fizzing sound came from them, and sparks appeared, but quickly faded. As the hallway became consumed by shadow, Wendy's heart slammed in her ribcage.

"He's here," Tootles whispered. He turned to her, his face beginning to perspire, "Wendy, _he's here._"

They were engulfed in darkness, though the lights let out a flurry of sparks one last time. In the afterglow, she saw the familiar silhouette that haunted her dreams. Then everything went black.

"Run, Tootles," Wendy said, softly at first. Then, panic started to grip her, and she screamed, "_**Tootles, run**_!" She yanked him to his feet, took his hand, and started to run to the left. Abruptly, she came up short. She was jerked backwards, and realized that Tootles had actually dug his feet into the ground.

"Wendy, we can't go together!" the boy insisted, "There's two of us, and one of him! If we run together, we'll both be killed! But if we split up-" he was panting.

"Absolutely not," Wendy hissed, "I am not letting you die!" She clamped her hand around his even more forcefully, but Tootles smiled sadly:

"You saved me once. I still owe you blood." Then, before she could stop him, he took off in the other direction.

Wendy had no choice but to muffle her tears as she ran down the hallway.

She swore she could hear laughter.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<br>_I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you think!

~ladykikyo1792


	7. Chapter 7: Neverland's

_Author's Note: First off, thank you to sarah0406, MusicLover500, Hildebrant, and Dreamer-Girl96 for their reviews! I greatly appreciate it!_

_Secondly, in one part of this chapter Wendy is addressed by Grace as "Gwen." Consequently, when Grace's thoughts regarding Wendy are mentioned, she refers to her as "Gwen." So that's why there was a switch in the narration there (otherwise there would have been too many "she" and "her" pronouns that were ambiguous)._

_Enjoy!_

_~ladykikyo1792_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Neverland's<strong>

Wendy ran down the hallway as fast as she could. Rounding a corner, she spotted something next to the wall she thought could help- or at least save any of the other boys in the school: the fire alarm. Grimacing, she pulled her fist back, then smashed it through the glass. A few shards were stuck in her hand, but she ignored them and yanked the lever. At once, the whine of the alarm rang throughout the school. Sprinklers turned on, covering the halls with water. She could hear people in the cafeteria yelling and complaining about their books getting soaked. Still, slowly, they trickled out of the building and onto the grass, awaiting the Fire Department's arrival to investigate.

Struggling to catch her breath, Wendy followed. Numbly, she cradled one hand in the other. She stood on her tiptoes, gazing over the crowd, hoping against hope to spot Tootles. She found almost all of the others- Nibs, Slightly, and Curly among them -but not Tootles. Biting back a cry of frustration, she struggled not to scream.

"Gwen!"

Grace ran to catch up with her, "Oh my God, Gwen. What happened?" The stunned teenager looked at Wendy from her head to her toes. Her friend was drenched, brown hair laying flat across her shoulders. The blue blouse she'd worn was torn. Her eyes were red, and one hand was bleeding badly.

"Grace," Wendy said sadly, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Besides, if she told Grace, she had no doubt it would put her in danger. She figured Grace and Gretel were safe for now- they'd never played a game with Pan, unlike herself, the Lost Boys, and Tink -nor had they crossed him. They were neutrals, background figures who happened to surround her. So long as they didn't fight him, he'd most likely leave them alone.

"Try me," Grace folded her arms. She stared her down. While Grace looked angry, in reality, she was more concerned for her friend. The past week had put a huge strain on her. While dealing with murder had never been easy- let alone the murder of people you'd known for years -there was something more critical that had been affecting Gwen. It had changed her entirely, and she was breaking down right in front of Grace. Grace didn't understand why Gwen wouldn't tell her- perhaps she could help.

"Not if you want to stay alive," someone hissed. Wendy looked up in shock to see a livid Tink. The fairy grabbed Wendy's good arm and started tugging her away from the students, who gave them curious glances.

"Hey!" Grace yelled, "What do you think you're doing? Gwen's my friend, and you dropped out!" She strode after the two Neverlanders, face growing red. She was irate that Tinkerbell had just walked in, threatened her, and dragged Gwen away from the one person who- in Grace's mind -could help her.

"One," Tink said, "Her name is Wendy. Two, she had a life before she became your friend, and that life was far more dangerous than anything _you_ ever had to deal with. Three, in that life, everyone who knew her- everyone who knew _us_ -lived with death every day. You know _nothing_ about her. And four, the only reason I dropped out was because I didn't want to deal with immature twits like you!" Then she spun around and left an open-mouthed Grace behind. As if pulled along by the tide, Wendy couldn't help but go with her.

"That was cruel," Wendy muttered. She meant to berate Tink, though the fairy didn't care.

"But necessary," Tink handed Wendy a handkerchief. The girl grimaced and accepted it, stemming the flow of blood from her wounds. The two walked for a while, pushing through confused students. Eventually, they were on the outskirts of the crowd, unnoticed by the teachers. While the students paid them a little attention- Tink hadn't been seen on the grounds in a while -they were still more concerned with their books. Tink stared at Wendy expectantly, as if waiting for a reaction. The girl was silent, and frustrated, the fairy commanded, "You have to stop pretending you're someone you're not! You _aren't_ Gwen Carissima, ordinary, careless, girl-"

"Tink, stop-" Wendy pleaded, but Tink ignored her:

"-you are Wendy Darling, and you and I both know that anyone who tries to keep Wendy Darling away from Peter Pan dies." The words hung heavy between them, a truth neither could ignore.

* * *

><p><em>Wendy sat on the edge of the lagoon. Giggling, she dipped her toes in the crystalline water, and splashed the boy who swam around in front of her. His eyes were a warm, chocolate brown. In the real world, his name had been Andrew, but like many Lost Boys who wanted to forget their pasts, he'd gained a nickname from Peter: Del. Peter hadn't wanted to call him that at first, but when Wendy had remarked his eyes looked like chocolate and suggested he be called "Delicious" (much to the other Boys' laughter), Peter had both humored her and made Del a joke to the other boys. Still, Del had quickly gained a camaraderie with the Boys, and most had forgotten his silly full name. Wendy only remembered it sometimes, when he did sweet things for her.<em>

_She couldn't remember when it had started, exactly. One day he'd brought her blue flowers from a treetop she'd never been able to scale. She'd often mentioned how pretty she'd found the flowers, and as she hadn't been taught to fly yet, couldn't reach them herself. Another day Del had found tiny jewels left behind in a clearing where fairies had danced the night before. When Wendy asked why fairies had left jewels behind, Del had mentioned that they'd probably had such fun dancing they hadn't even noticed jewels fall off their dresses. A dubious Wendy had asked Tink later, and the fairy grudgingly confirmed it. Del took the jewels and made them into a tiny brooch, which she wore often. He'd also taught her to swim in this lagoon- which was the safest on the island (mermaids didn't like it because it was so shallow). _

_All that Wendy knew was suddenly, she'd started to blush when he was in her presence. Del grinned more broadly every time he spotted her. When Peter played his pipes, and the boys danced around the fires at night, Del began to dance with her instead of the other boys._

_Neither noticed how angry Peter's eyes grew whenever he saw them together. _

_Today was a particularly warm day on the island. Most of the boys had begun a game of chase. A few others had hoped to run into the Indians who lived on the opposite side of the island. Peter had disappeared, as he sometimes did, and Del had suggested Wendy and he take advantage of the nice weather and the lagoon for her to practice swimming. _

_Wendy had yet to go in, but she was greatly enjoying splashing Del with the water. _

_"Wendy!" he yelled at her, "You need to practice!"_

_"I am," she laughed, the sound like tinkling bells._

_"That," Del swam toward her, "does not look like practicing to me." His face was full of mischief._

_"Of course it is," Wendy replied innocently, "I'm practicing splashing you!" Then she went at it again. _

_Del responded by wrapping his hands around her ankles and throwing her into the water. Wendy shrieked as she came up for air. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to clear her vision. _

_"Del!" she shouted, "Del! You are going to pay for that!" Even though she was "mad," she was still giggling. The water was a perfect temperature, as always, and the sand was warm and squishy beneath her feet. Her white nightgown billowed around her. _

_Abruptly, Wendy noticed he Del was nowhere to be found, "Del?" she called, hesitant at first. She whipped her head around, searching for his form. This wasn't like him. Even if he were planning to surprise her, he would have done it by now. Del, while an excellent swimmer, had never been able to hold his breath for very long. _

_Suddenly, she felt something grab her leg. She had only a moment to look down at the smiling face of a mermaid as the creature pulled her beneath the water. Wendy fought, clawing and scratching at the mermaid, but it was no use. The mermaid merely tightened her hold on the frightened girl and began to swim towards the darker waters of the ocean, her amethyst tail twinkling in the sunlight. _

_Wendy was certain she would die until she heard the mermaid screech underwater. A bit of blood floated before Wendy's eyes, and she found herself released. She floated aimlessly for a few seconds. Then strong arms fastened around her and carried her out of the lagoon's waters. There was a brief, dizzying, sensation of flying, and she fought to recover her senses. _

_"Wendy!" Peter smoothed the wet hair out of her face. His green eyes roved over hers, and he gently laid her beneath a palm tree. Dimly, Wendy could see the fronds waving above her. _

_"Wendy, are you all right?" Peter queried, checking her for injuries. His fingers danced over her, reassuring himself that she was unharmed. There were two blue bruises where the mermaid had clutched her, but nothing else. _

_"I'm- I'm okay," Wendy gasped, "but Del- he's still in there!" She coughed up water, and before she could say another word, Peter flew upwards and dove straight back into the lagoon. He didn't surface for a long time. _

_Just when Wendy thought that the mermaids had somehow, impossibly, tried to drown him too, Peter emerged. He held a mermaid by the hair, and was speaking furiously to her in their strange, clicking language. She hissed at him, but must have given him an answer, because he let her go. Quickly, she swam away, and Peter returned to the shore. He approached Wendy, a grave look on his face, and she immediately knew what he was going to say._

_"No," she whispered, eyes filling with tears, "No!"_

_"I'm sorry, Wendy," the boy said. He knelt next to her, and wiped one stray tear off her cheek_

_"Why, Peter?" she demanded, "Why did they do it? They never swim here! They don't like it here! Why were they here? Why-"_

_"She said that he was stealing something," the boy replied simply. Then Wendy threw he arms around him, and he held her as she cried. _

* * *

><p>"Why, Tink?" Wendy demanded, "Why can't I be Gwen? What is so bad about that?" She didn't mean to sound as petulant as she did. It was just that she had thought for once, she could be happy, and there were no strings attached to her happiness. There were no tricks or traps left by a handsome boy. Affection came independent of pain. She could spend days with her heart whole, instead of it being cracked and pieced together with glimpses of love, and then having parts slip away no matter how hard she tried. She had seen that. She wanted that. Finally, she wanted to let go, because if she only tried, then Storybrooke had things to give her Neverland never could.<p>

"Because you aren't Gwen," Tink insisted, "Neverland touched you, and just like the rest of us, you became Neverland's. The island claimed you. _Peter _claimed you. And we are the only ones who recognize him for the danger he is. If no one else will believe in him, we have to," the fairy said grimly, "and we have to fight back."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>

_Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!_

_~ladykikyo1792**  
><strong>_


	8. Chapter 8: Wendy-bird

_Author's Note: Thank you to sarah0406 and the very kind guest for your reviews! I hope you enjoy! _

_~ladykikyo1792_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Wendy-bird<strong>

When Wendy returned home, she sat on her bed for nearly three hours, clutching a pillow. She thought and agonized about what Tink said.

_You aren't Gwen Carissima, ordinary, careless, girl. You are Wendy Darling_.

Yes, she was Wendy Darling. Unluckily for her, Gwen didn't exist. She was a hopeless dream. Wendy had to accept the lot she was dealt in life, and that was as herself, the constant attraction for an insane boy-king.

Sighing, she took out a duffle bag from beneath her bed and began to pack. Sweaters. Jeans. Combat boots. A few skirts, just in case she had somewhere nice to go, though she didn't think so, considering recent events. Comb, brush, cell phone charger. Cell phone.

Wendy scrolled through her most recent text messages. At least twelve from Grace, demanding to know if she was all right and where on earth Tink had taken her to, ten from Gretel, saying more or less the same thing, surprisingly, a few from Ferdinand, asking her to the dance, and the brief thread she had with Tink.

TINK: Talked to Emma. She thinks we're crazy.  
>WENDY: That's nothing new.<br>TINK: Either way, she says she'll let us spend the night there. She also says she'll stay with us.  
>WENDY: Good. Who's going to be watching Felix?<br>TINK: David, I guess. I didn't ask. Just hurry up.

Admittedly, Emma really only thought they would be at Regina's for the night, but Wendy and Tink intended to go somewhere they felt they could meet Pan with backup. Somewhere Wendy thought was away from John and Michael, so they wouldn't be dragged into this again. The two Neverlanders didn't really expect to be going back to their homes for a while, because once Pan made his appearance, they couldn't be left alone.

Consequently, Wendy was going around and picking up the things she expected she would need if she were to be away for at least a month. She went into the bathroom and considered her toiletries. She figured shampoo and conditioner would work, plus toothbrush and toothpaste. Other than that, she wasn't sure she needed much.

As she returned to her bedroom, she noticed the worn diary- the tattered diary representing her time in Neverland -had moved. Instead of its hiding place in her desk, it was resting neatly atop her folded clothes in the duffle bag. Her eyes flicked to the side of her desk, where her pink diary had been deposited in the trash.

Neither were where they had been two minutes before.

Hesitantly, she approached her duffle bag. She forced herself to open the diary, and a few black feathers fluttered to the ground. One remained in the book, on the last page, and she flipped to it:

_Nice to see you, Bird._

It was the same scratchy, angular writing as before, and what little doubt she had in her mind was shredded. The arrogance of the phrase! He was so casual, so cocky about it, as if they'd met each other in the park, long-lost acquaintances reuniting. As if their relationship wasn't far more complex.

Angry now, she whirled around, inspecting every inch of her room:

"Peter?" she queried. She struggled to keep her voice calm as she waited for his own greeting, which was sure to be cutting.

Silence.

Instinctively, Wendy cast her gaze to the ceiling. It was a reflexive habit she'd developed in Neverland. Peter had often liked to fly upwards, staying close to the ceiling of her treehouse, and scare her as she lay in her bed. But he wasn't there.

He _had_ to be in her room though. He had gone through her things. He had removed both diaries from their hiding places quickly and easily- which suggested he had known where they were previously. How long, she wondered, had he been watching her? She shivered at the thought.

Then she realized her closet door was closed. It had been open before she'd gone to the bathroom.

_Oh God. _

Slowly, carefully, she stepped towards her closet. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath her. They sounded like explosions compared to the quiet around her, with only the light hiss of her heater in the background. Her heart slamming against her ribcage, and her hand shaking, she reached for the golden knob.

She took a deep breath, and pulled the door open.

She didn't know what she expected, exactly, but it certainly wasn't just her clothes on their hangers. Disbelievingly, she went through them, waiting for Peter to reveal himself. What would he look like here? Would he be dressed in modern clothes? Or the outfit made of green leaves and rough fibers she knew so well?

She could still feel its course thread on her skin.

Then, she noticed a piece of paper- clearly ripped from the diary -lying on the ground by her lone pair of high heels. Checking the ceiling in the closet just to be sure he wasn't lurking above her- nothing -she bent down and retrieved it:

_Bird, what are you doing all caged up in here? Don't you want to fly?_

Then she heard soft laughter, as if from a ghost. Her window cracked open with a burst of cool air. She raced to her window, but he was nowhere to be found. Cars drove up and down the street. Granny and Red chatted as they strolled down the sidewalk, carrying bags of groceries. Dr. Hopper was walking Pongo. They all were oblivious to her presence at the window.

Surely he didn't mean for her to jump.

Did he?

He'd once promised her he'd always catch her.

But that had been before.

* * *

><p><em>The day had finally arrived. Peter had at last said he would teach her to fly. Practically squealing with excitement, Wendy was waiting, as instructed, in the middle of a clearing. Jungle trees surrounded her, and a few of the Lost Boys sat on a pile of rocks on the side. Felix and Rufio were talking in hushed voices. When Rufio saw her, he waved, and she happily waved back. Felix drawled:<em>

_"Are you sure you want to fly, Wendy? It's dangerous." He smirked at her._

_"I'm not afraid," Wendy said confidently. She did know it was dangerous, but she wasn't going to let him intimidate her. He was truly the only Lost Boy she didn't like. She couldn't pinpoint what it was about him, but she had despised him from the moment she'd met him._

_Felix raised an eyebrow, "You're not afraid? You, who won't even go to the lagoon anymore?"_

_"Mermaids can't fly," she retorted, folding her arms. She refused to acknowledge his remark. It was cruel, the way he made fun of Del's death. It was also cruel how he made the boys go to the Mermaids' Lagoon. Didn't he know how dangerous it was?_

_He chuckled, "Whatever you say, Wendy." Then his gaze moved to the sky, and he barked:_

_"Boys, in line! Pan's here."_

_The Lost Boys jostled each other in a rush to get into position. Rufio laughed at their efforts and rearranged them so they were organized by height. They all sucked in a breath, waiting patiently._

_Wendy too looked to the perfect blue sky, and at once, Peter made a brilliant, graceful landing before her. He bowed to her, with a brilliant smile, and she curtsied back. It had become their custom to do this whenever they met._

_"Are you ready to fly, Wendy-bird?"_

_"Oh, yes!"_

_His face lit up at her eager smile, and he crossed his arms, "Then let's begin. Boys, what do you need to fly?" He wasn't so much quizzing them as he was playing to his audience. Peter Pan, ever one for dramatics, did everything with flair. It made his magnetic presence even more mesmerizing, and Wendy had decided that was what made him the leader over everyone else. Aside from his skill with weaponry, he was the leader simply because he dazzled the others. If she was honest, he dazzled her, too._

_"Happy thoughts!" Curly supplied._

_"'Happy thoughts?'" Peter repeated. He shared an amused glance with Rufio and Felix._

_"Yes," Curly insisted, "Lots of happy thoughts. You think happy thoughts, and they lift you into the air!" He spread his arms wide, as if he too was about to take off._

_"Curly," Rufio laughed, "Where did you come up with that?" It was certainly something no one in Neverland had told him._

_Curly blinked, "In London, when I was sad, I felt like I could never get out of bed, because I didn't have anyone to love me. But then I would think of all the parents who were coming through the orphanage that day looking for children, and it was a happy thought, and I would get up. But no one wanted me to be part of their family," he paused, "I was too old, so then I would grow sad again. One day the Shadow came, though, and the Shadow wanted me. That was such a happy thought that I was able to fly away with it to Neverland."_

_A heavy silence hung over them all. Peter rarely, if ever, let them discuss their lives before Neverland. It simply ruined the fun, and Neverland was supposed to be a place of eternal fun. However, for a moment, he too was dumbstruck by Curly's earnest explanation._

_Wendy said, "I think that's a lovely idea, Curly. That you need happy thoughts to fly."_

_She gave Peter a meaningful look. Despite himself, he found himself grudgingly agreeing with her:_

_"You're right, Curly. You need happy thoughts to fly. And Neverland is your home and we are your family-"_

_"And we want you to be part of it, always," Wendy finished with a smile._

_Curly looked from one of them to the other, then asked, "So you are Mother and Father?"_

_"What?" Peter repeated, stunned. This was not something he had even conceived of. He hated parents. They had no place in Neverland._

_"All families have a mother and father," Curly stated, as if this should be obvious. He looked so hopeful that Wendy couldn't bear to deny him. She put a hand on Peter's arm, and he rolled his eyes:_

_"Fine. Wendy's Mother and I'm Father. And now Mother needs to learn to fly." With that, Peter redirected the conversation:_

_"While you do need happy thoughts, you also need pixie dust," he reached into the small leather bag hung on his belt, and retrieved the precious dust. Wendy gasped at the sight. It was somehow a million shades of green at once. It outshone any emeralds she had ever seen before- any jewels she'd ever owned. It glittered, and she was utterly fascinated._

_"It's beautiful, Peter," she murmured._

_Before she could say another word, he softly blew it towards her, his lips rounded in a perfect o._

_Wendy's heart started to pound. Had she imagined that? Had Peter Pan just blown her a kiss? She blushed with happiness at the thought, and she couldn't seem to turn her gaze away from him. He was grinning widely. It was perhaps the widest she'd ever seen him smile, and she couldn't figure out why until she finally forced herself to stop staring into his enchanting eyes. Then she gasped. Unwittingly, she had flown so high that they were just over the tops of the trees. She could see the entire island from here- the Mermaids' Lagoon, the Jolly Roger, the Indian camp, Skull Rock. She was stunned at the beauty of Neverland, and wondered how she had gone so long without seeing it this way- Peter's way. Why had he kept her from it? He'd said, each time she asked, that she wasn't ready. She had no idea why, because she felt more than ready every time he and the boys flew, chasing the clouds and leaving her in her treehouse._

_Then she looked down. Fear overtook her, and her brain told her, You cannot fly. No one can fly. The logic kept repeating itself over and over in her head, even though she lived daily with boys who could and did fly about. She stopped believing, and then she began to plummet to the ground. Her speed increased, and she was going faster and faster- she would surely die-_

_She closed her eyes, and at the last moment, the rushing stopped. Wendy peeked out of one eye, to find herself yet again in Peter's arms. He was staring at her, and she couldn't decipher the look in his eyes._

_"You stopped believing," he said._

_"I didn't mean to," she replied, immediately contrite and desperate to explain, "I just- I thought I would fall- and there was no one to catch me -"_

_Quite seriously, Peter told her, "I will _always_ catch you." It sounded like a vow._

_Wendy's heart skipped a beat, "I believe you." Her words too seemed like an unbreakable, sacred oath._

_"Good. Come on Bird. Let's try again. And don't stop believing," he warned her._

_"I won't ever stop believing in you, Peter," she promised._

_"Never?" Peter raised an eyebrow, as he lead her back into the air._

_"Never," Wendy swore, holding his hand tight._

* * *

><p>Wendy leaned out the window, looking frantically from right to left. She could see nothing on the roofs of the buildings beside her own, but she had every confidence that he could hear her. He always did.<p>

"Peter, I'm _not_ jumping. I won't," she declared, "but let's see if you can catch me."

With that, she slammed the window shut. Then she grabbed her cell phone and a light jacket, and left the apartment. On the way down the stairs, she texted Tink, rapid-fire:

WENDY: He's at my apartment. I don't know how. But he is. I'm trying to keep him away from the town. I'm going to the wood to the oak clearing. Come find me, and bring the sheriff...the mayor...everyone you think can stop him.

She didn't wait to hear the answer, only focused on protecting her brothers and neighbors. Instead, she ran out the door, then circled behind the brick building. A forest loomed before her, the dying leaves all arrayed in the red and yellows of autumn. She knew he would follow her. He'd been following her for days already.

Besides, she thought he would appreciate her cleverness.

After all, birds flew in forests.

When she reached the clearing, about a mile in- a spot she and Tink knew well, for it was where the high schoolers sometimes went to hang out undisturbed -she spun around. The woods were quiet. That was a telltale sign of his presence. The animals were afraid- and they were right to be. A new predator was stalking the woods, and he was far more dangerous than anything they had ever encountered.

Luckily, he wasn't interested in them.

"Peter!" Wendy called. She received no response, though she did hear a twig snap behind her. She turned to the sound, but there was no one there. All she could see was the sun was setting lazily behind the trees. It would have been beautiful on a normal day, but today was not normal.

"Peter!" she said again, "I know you're here, Peter!" A bit upset, now- she just wanted to get the inevitable confrontation over with -she tried to goad him:

"Come out, Peter! Come out, right _now_!"

Of course, he didn't listen.

But another twig did snap. He was doing that on purpose- to goad _her_. To upset her and to make her afraid.

To her dismay, he was succeeding remarkably.

"Peter," she said, his name this time almost coming out like a prayer, "Please. I know you're here." Maybe he wanted her to beg.

Apparently not, because there was still no response.

So she played her last card:

"I wanted to believe you were dead."

They were fatal words, and she knew then that there was no turning back. She had brought Peter Pan out of hiding and into Storybrooke. The wind picked up behind her, and she whipped around to see him throw a cloak over his shoulder. His fey green eyes were bright with madness:

"Oh Wendy-bird, did you really believe I was gone?"

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>

_Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!_

_~ladykikyo1792_


	9. Chapter 9: Changing the Game

_Author's Note:_

_Firstly, thank you to Kristen, the Guests (I'm pretty sure there are two different ones? Either way, you are awesome), Dreamer-Girl96, Rainbows-slayer, MusicLover500, and sarah0406 for your reviews! I really appreciate you taking the time to do it; it means a lot to me. :) Secondly, just as general info, I'm a grad student, and often I have zero life. The next two weeks I have so much schoolwork it's insane. So while I will try to update frequently, I can't promise it will be every 2 days or so, like it has been previously. Still, I'm just as obsessed with Darling/Pan as you are, and I want to write, so I will do my very best._

Finally, please enjoy!

_~ladykikyo1792_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Changing the Game<strong>

He stood there, cocky, confident, and beautiful. It was as if he had walked straight out of her dreams to stand before her. Green, stunning eyes, sun-kissed bronze hair, and lean, taut muscle, clothed in his leather boots and outfit of stitched leaves.

Yet he smiled the same way, as if he were happy to see her. That scared her most of all.

"How?" Wendy croaked, taking a few steps backwards, "How did you survive that? How _could_ you survive that?" She'd _seen_ Regina tear his heart out. It had been blackened, and the red representing his life faded the more the Evil Queen touched it. Regina had finally held it in front of his face, taunting him with it as he lay on the floor dying, before hurling it into the depths of the ocean beside Skull Rock.

"I'd tell you," Peter said, "but that would ruin the game." He smirked at her. She couldn't fathom how he already had a plan in place. And his games were always dangerous. The Twins, if they were alive, could testify to that. But Wendy didn't know what this one was, and cautiously, she tried to find out:

"The game?"

"Yes. There's a new game, Wendy, but I'm afraid you can't play. I can't trust you. You didn't play fair last time." He walked towards her, and she doubled over, fighting back tears. Part of her was terrified that her nightmares had come to life. Another part of her, the part, she didn't want to acknowledge, was grateful to see him alive. She hated herself for it.

"You were going to kill him, Peter," she whispered, reminding both him and herself of his awful intention, "You wanted to rip his heart out-"

"I've killed people plenty of times, and you never had a problem with it then," Peter said dismissively. He raised an eyebrow at her, and crossed his arms. Wendy had no answer for that, as he knew she wouldn't. Still, he liked to know everything, and he needed to know one thing:

"Why this time, Wendy? What made Henry Mills so special that you betrayed me?" It was something he had wondered for a long time, and even in the darkness of his heart, it bothered him. He had thought he was the center of Wendy Darling's world, and that she couldn't bear to be without him. Then she'd gone and left him to die, and he never understood her reasons.

Peter circled around her like a predator surveying his prey. She could feel his breath on her neck, and she resisted the urge to fall back against the chest, as she had so many times before.

"It wasn't just him, Peter," she explained, though he would never comprehend her feelings, "I felt like I'd lost you." There were no words to describe what she had gone through in those last, agonizing days. The choice she had had to make. How she had broken her heart to give up his.

"Lost _me_?" he chuckled, "I was never lost." The very notion was foreign to him. He had always had a place: the king of Neverland. His boys were Lost, at least in name, though to him were only lost to their old worlds. He had found them. He had saved them.

But he himself was never lost.

"What do you want, Peter?" Wendy demanded, "I don't have time to play games with you-" He always had a desire, an end in mind, and despite their past, despite everything that had happened between them, there were people she needed to protect. And so she had to remember everything he had done, and focus only on that. Trying to get him to understand something he never would was a waste of time.

"Oh yes," Peter noted sarcastically, "All grown up now, aren't we?" He picked up a lock of her hair, letting the silken strands run through his fingers. Almost against her will, Wendy shivered:

"Stop, Peter. Just stop."

"Why would I? I'm having so much _fun_. And I've only just started!" he came around in front of her again, grinning as though he had merely been fighting with the pirates again.

"Stop it," Wendy hissed, "Stop this _now_. Stop killing people. Stop _murdering_ the boys. They were afraid of you-"

"They knew the rules," Peter replied, utterly shameless, "They broke them. They paid the price." Absentmindedly, he began to play with his dagger. It was like he was fondly reminiscing about killing his friends.

"And what about me, Peter?" Wendy said, "I broke the rules. By that logic, I should be dead."

"But that would be no fun at all!" Peter retorted almost jokingly, before his voice grew deathly serious, "Now, Wendy. You will do me a favor. Tell them to release Felix. He's done nothing; all the boys died by my hand. Then let them know I am here, and they will meet with me and give me what I want."

"And what's that?"

"You'll find out, Wendy-bird. Though you should already know." He trailed one hand down her cheek, his rough fingers, calloused from so many battles, like fire on her soft skin. Unable to bear it, she turned away from him. He was right. She had spent so many days running from him, and so many nights at his side. While none could claim to know Peter Pan, she was one of the few with whom he'd shared at least a little. She could never win his games, but she could guess. And she was clever enough to try, which was, she suspected, part of the reason he'd kept her in Neverland. Even boys who lived forever got bored, every once in a while, and she provided a foil to him.

Without another word, he took off into the air and was gone. She watched his silhouette disappear among the branches, and for a second, she found herself remembering the day he'd taught her to fly. She'd forgotten how, it seemed, otherwise she'd fly after him and rip his heart out herself.

"Wendy!" Tink called frantically. She was trailed by Emma, Regina, David, Mary Margaret, and shockingly, the Mother Superior. Wendy knew that as the Blue Fairy, she and Tink had a sour relationship, so it meant a lot to her that Tink had sought out her help. It wouldn't have been easy for her.

"Where is he?" David asked. He held his sword in front of him, searching for an enemy that was no longer there. The image was almost comical.

"He's gone," Wendy said, with zero emotion, "I don't know where. He said to let Felix go." Surprisingly, she couldn't bring herself to feel angry or sad anymore. It seemed those initial feelings had left her after she'd seen him again, because now, she was just numb. Her swirling emotions had disappeared with his departure. Peter Pan was back to doing the things he always did, and she'd grown used to his power in Neverland once. It was very easy to accept that he'd brought his power to a new realm, and they were all subjects to the boy-king. There was no point dreading something that had already occurred, and no point mourning it.

How on earth had she and Tink thought they could fight him?

"Why is it that you are always left were bad things happen?" Regina demanded. She looked at Wendy suspiciously, and somewhere in her mind, Wendy found it laughable that Regina considered her a threat.

Had she forgotten about Pan?

"It's the nature of being a Neverlander," Tink explained, "and Wendy is unique, even among us."

"How so?" Emma asked. When they'd ventured to Neverland before, Wendy had been a background figure. She could think of little else to distinguish her other than that she had been the only girl on the island, and Tink couldn't possibly be referencing that.

"Pan is the king of Neverland. Wendy, at one point, was his queen. Not in name, but he regarded her as his all the same."

As the group looked at her in shock, Wendy said nothing. She kept her gaze fixed on the trees, certain that Peter was listening. She wondered if Tink's assertion amused him. Peter Pan had never cared for her- of that she was certain -and he'd never granted her any power. He'd viewed her as a sort of ornament to his reign, one he'd guarded jealously and kept only for himself.

She was hardly a queen. More of a pretty possession.

"Then why did he leave her here?" Regina wrinkled her nose. It was true that she herself had ruled a kingdom once, and from her experience, one kept all valuables close by. They were never left for peasants to find.

"He'll come back eventually," Tink replied, "but for now, he'll let things stay as they are. This is a game to him. We're all pieces in it, and he's interested only that it ends in his favor. In the meantime, he likes to see suffering." She snuck a quick glance at Wendy, but the teenager continued to ignore the entire conversation. She was still watching for Pan.

Oblivious to this, Mary Margaret walked to Wendy and asked her directly, "Why would he do that?" The former princess literally could not comprehend it. Regina, at least, when she was her enemy, had clear motives and had preferred to act on them immediately. Pan was different, apparently, but she didn't grasp why.

"Because he's Peter Pan," Wendy stated, "That's what he does. He plays games and manipulates them so he wins. In the meantime, he watches everyone else fail. He entertains himself. And he sees this as the ultimate revenge, letting you all run around and try to fix it-"

"_Letting_ us?" Emma asked. The Savior was incredulous. They'd beaten him once. How could he be treating them like marionettes? Wasn't he afraid of them, even a bit?

"You're talking about a boy who defied nature, and now he defied _death_. You really think he can't control you?" Tink pointed out. She was clearly frustrated, but she couldn't help but let loose a dejected laugh. Peter Pan had raised himself from the _dead_. He wasn't exactly a typical enemy.

"So what are we supposed to do?" Regina said, "Just give into the demands of a teenage serial killer?" She snorted.

"Right now, I'm afraid those are your only options. Unless you can figure out a brilliant plan to fight him, which Wendy and I were trying to do by ourselves, but-" Tink started, though Mary Margaret quickly interrupted her:

"What if we work together? That's what helped last time-" She had such a naive smile on her face the fairy almost pitied her.

"We can't," Wendy said, "Tink and I both know our plan won't work now, no matter how many people participate. We thought he was just here for murder, but he's not."

"What are you saying, Wendy?" David inquired. He narrowed his eyes.

Wendy gave them all a long look, then announced: "He's changed the game."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em>

_I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think!_

_~ladykikyo1792_


	10. Chapter 10: Monster Under the Bed

_Author's Note: Thank you to sarah0406, MusicLover500, the very kind Guest, Hildebrant, 13Nyx13, and the Anon for their reviews! I appreciate you taking the time to do it. :) It makes me so happy to see them!_

_Hope everyone had a fantastic Halloween._

_In the meantime, enjoy!_

_~ladykikyo1792_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Monster Under the Bed<strong>

That night, Wendy found herself in bed, staring at the ceiling of her new home. Shortly after their discussion with the Charmings, she and Tink had decided to move to an empty house at the edge of town. Originally, they'd planned to stay with Regina, but they quickly threw that option out after realizing Pan wasn't just back for revenge. Having two Neverlanders under the same roof with Henry, who possessed the Heart of the Truest Believer, was too dangerous. The adults weren't particularly thrilled with the teenagers' decision, but once Wendy had told them that Peter (as of yet) did not want to kill her, they agreed that it was best to keep them away from the other citizens. If Pan were to visit them, they reasoned, at least they wouldn't be a danger to everyone else.

She sighed. It was incredibly difficult for her to fall asleep now. Whether it was because her nightmares had started walking around or because she was afraid Peter would show up to talk to her she couldn't tell. Tink, oddly, had no problem falling asleep. Wendy could hear her soft snores through the door. She envied the fairy's restful slumber.

"Trouble sleeping, Bird?" As if summoned by her very thoughts, his words echoed through her room. Wendy rolled over to see Peter alight at her window, then stroll in as if he owned the place. Considering she'd locked the window and it hadn't done anything to stop him, apparently, he thought he did own the place, and had the right to enter without an invitation.

She wasn't surprised by this. In what little method of retaliation she had, she ignored his question. She knew he _hated_ being ignored. There were few things he hated more- with the exception of Hook, and now, most likely her.

"What? You're not going to speak to me? How childish! I thought you were all grown up?" he mocked her. He held a hand to his heart.

"Enough, Peter," she retorted, "You're right. I am having trouble sleeping. You coming into my room isn't exactly helping." It was making it even worse, actually. She'd been thinking of him, and now she actually had to deal with him. She wondered, idly, if this was going to become a regular habit.

"It used to," Peter noted, all traces of cruelty gone, "It still can." He kept his tone neutral, but Wendy didn't trust him anymore. He wanted something from her, and while she didn't know what it was, she didn't intend to let him have it.

"Why?" she snapped, "So you can just slit my throat in my sleep?" Annoyed, she rolled to her other side. While she wasn't stupid enough to close her eyes, she didn't want to stare at his smug face either.

His footsteps echoed across the floorboards as he approached her bed, then gingerly sat beside her still form. His fingers, barely there, started to stroke her hair. It was an absurdly tender gesture for someone like him. The contradiction was so extreme she almost pinched herself to be certain she was awake.

"You know I wouldn't do that." He made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Wendy knew him better than that. He was savage and bloody and had a thirst for vengeance so strong it couldn't be rivaled by any power on this earth. He had treated her tenderly before only to break her later. He'd drawn blood from her- once -and he'd done it on purpose. She had no doubt he could do it again. Whether he would was another story entirely, but it didn't change the fact he could. So she challenged him:

"Do I?"

To her surprise, he immediately acquiesced, "Fine. You have my word. This house is as sacred as your treehouse. None will harm you here, not me, not Felix, not the boys. I always keep my promises." She resisted the urge to sit up in shock. Her treehouse in Neverland, built for her by Peter when he'd decided she should have some place of her own (according to him), had been a place of amnesty. Nothing could harm her there, not pirates, not Indians, not Tink, nor any island inhabitant. None could even enter without her permission- except for Peter. But even he, in his darkest moments, had never hurt her there. For him to give this house the protection of her treehouse- and technically, Tink gained the protection too, as she shared this house with Wendy -was bizarre. It confused her, and bewildered, couldn't help but ask:

"Why are you promising me safety? Why aren't I dead?" She should be, for all intents and purposes. Peter could have killed her many times over now- at her old apartment (she still had no idea how long he'd been watching her, and knowing him, it could have been from her very first day in Storybrooke), at school, and now here. Even if he had been waiting for her to notice his existence, she knew he was alive now. With his penchant for theatrics, she should have been writhing in a pool of her own blood as he whispered cruel nothings in her ear. Yet she wasn't. She was laying in her bed, and her would-be- her should-be -murderer was stroking her hair.

Peter paused for a moment in thought, then said, "You're the reason I'm still alive. Admittedly, that doesn't excuse you for letting them try to kill me in the first place, but you paved the way for me to survive," he shook his head, then taunted her again, "And you never told them, did you? About your little lie?"

_Little_? Wendy thought. Lying to the Evil Queen and Rumplestiltskin was hardly a "little lie." She'd been petrified they would be able to tell and would incinerate her on the spot for aiding Pan. To her amazement, they'd believed her, and the result was sitting next to her.

Accordingly, Wendy didn't answer him, and his hands stilled in her hair. He asked, almost viciously:

"Are you regretting it, Bird? Do you wish you'd let the queen go through with it?"

A long moment of silence passed, fraught with tension. Peter was waiting to hear her agree that she'd wanted him dead, and she was waiting for him to choke her. She wasn't sure what to say or what to tell him, but finally, she replied:

"I have so many regrets with you, Peter Pan." She wasn't willing to let him, or herself, know the true answer:

No, she didn't regret what she'd done. She regretted what _he'd_ done in revenge, but she didn't regret saving his life.

A monster he might have been, and a monster he was, but he was her monster, beneath it all.

* * *

><p><em>Wendy couldn't pinpoint exactly when she had realized Peter wasn't all he appeared to be, that beneath his charming and witty exterior there was something terrifying. All she knew was that some days he could be so kind, and other days he was cruel just for the pure pleasure of it. Not usually to her- but to the boys around her. He treated them carelessly, like dolls, as if they too didn't breathe and feel things just as he did. Though Peter Pan, of course, claimed to feel nothing but bravery and pride, so perhaps it didn't occur to him there would be other things to feel. <em>

_To her, he continued to put up the endearing and clever front, but she caught him one day when he was unawares. He'd thought she was bathing, but she finished early. While he knew she was on her way back, his attention was focused on something else, so he didn't realize exactly how close she was. She arrived at the camp just in time to see him holding a crossbow in front of Nibs._

_"No, Peter! You know I can't shoot it!"the Lost Boy was deathly afraid. He stared at the crossbow as if it were about to light on fire. His eyes darted all about the camp, searching for something- anything -to possibly distract his leader. _

_"Nibs, all the other boys can. Even Felix can. You should at least know how," Rufio said. Peter gave a slight nod of approval to his second, and immediately knowing what Peter was going to do, Rufio started to gather most of the other boys and push them to the edge of the clearing. Most were generally clueless, but they knew enough to listen to Rufio. _

_"I can't!" Nibs insisted, "I won't!" he pushed the crossbow away, frantic, and Peter's face darkened with fury. _

_"You'll learn then," he promised, "Slightly!" He snapped his fingers, and obediently, the Lost Boy came to his side. He was chewing an apple, which Pan retrieved from his fingertips. Then he carefully balanced it on Slightly's head, and handed Nibs the crossbow. _

_"Nibs, you will shoot this apple off of Slightly's head," he commanded._

_"What?" Nibs blanched. He looked back and forth from Peter to Slightly. Slightly, to his credit, hadn't moved a muscle, except to take in a deep breath. He knew that moving anything else was likely to get a worse punishment meted out to him, and he was reluctant to draw Pan's ire. _

_Peter shrugged, "That's how you will learn. You've got one shot. Don't waste it." Then he went to stand between Felix and Rufio, incredibly pleased with his strategy. _

_"Peter, don't!" Wendy cried out. She burst into the clearing, desperate to stop what she was certain would be Slightly's death, and worse, Nibs' killing of his best friend. Chest heaving, she ran between Slightly and Nibs. Wendy threw her arms out to the side, hoping that her pleas would reach Peter again. _

_Peter was silent, and she realized that for the first time, his anger was directed towards her. She'd never been afraid of him before, but she was afraid of him then. He gave barely perceptible looks to Felix and Rufio, and to her shock, the boys immediately ran forward and grasped her arms. She struggled, but they had pinioned her in place. _

_"Slightly, the apple," Peter requested. An apologetic look on his face, Slightly tentatively made his way to Wendy and placed it on her head. _

_"Don't move, Wendy," Felix warned her, "Not if you want to live." She wanted to kill him, because from his tone, she could tell he was actually enjoying this. He found her fright amusing. He had the same reaction to rabbits stuck in his traps, and had she not been fighting for her life, she probably would have vomited._

_The apple fell to the ground, and Rufio retrieved it. More kindly than Felix, he told her: _

_"Wendy, you'll be okay, I promise, but you have to stay still." Seeing she was unable to do so, he let go of her arms. Felix took over the task of holding both arms, while Rufio crouched down behind her, holding her neck tightly so her head was forced to stay straight. _

_Peter, meanwhile, told Nibs, "Watch." He took the crossbow, met Wendy's eyes for a second, then let the arrow fly. Wendy screamed. Though she winced, Rufio and Felix held her fast. The arrow sliced neatly through the apple. To prove his point, Petr motioned to Slightly to put another apple on Wendy's head. Slightly approached the trembling girl and mumbled: _

_"I'm sorry, Wendy-lady. I'm so sorry." _

_Despite herself, and despite the fact she had come to Neverland with all intentions of being brave, she whimpered as he placed the second apple on her head. She couldn't bring herself to face Peter a second time. When she heard the arrow whistle through the air, she flinched again, this time hard enough to loosen Rufio's grip on her. She turned her head a bit to the left, and while the arrow sliced through the apple again, it grazed her head. A thin stream of blood appeared on her hairline. _

_At that, Rufio and Felix released her. Softly, Rufio chided her: _

_"You shouldn't have moved, Wendy."_

_Pan frowned as she ran to a nearby rock. Logically, she knew that if she ran out of the clearing, he would send boys to retrieve her- he never liked losing his audience -so she remained there. Yet she was horrified by what had just happened to her, and she couldn't seem to stop herself from shaking. _

_Peter went to her and knelt before her. Smirking, he pressed the crossbow against her heart:_

_"Wendy, do you believe I'd shoot you?"_

_"You- you just did!" Wendy managed to gasp out. She had never thought he was capable of such a thing. _

_Peter laughed at her terror. He left her there on the rock, then tossed the crossbow to Nibs. Slightly, doing his best to mask his own fear, stepped to the center of the clearing and placed an apple on his head. _

_Nibs bit his lip, aimed, then shot. _

_Again, Wendy couldn't help herself. She screamed and covered her eyes. _

_But the Lost Boys were clapping. She opened an eye to see the apple in pieces on the ground. Rufio and Felix gave Nibs congratulatory slaps on the back. Nibs himself was catching his breath, still stunned by what he had just done. _

_Wendy, meanwhile, just touched her hairline. Her fingertips came away with blood, and she stared at Peter. Then she bolted to her treehouse. _

_Peter watched her go, musing over her reaction. Still, he couldn't help but be pleased with himself a little, because Nibs became the best shot of them all after that day._

* * *

><p><em>Later, Peter had come to Wendy's treehouse. She was sitting before her makeshift dressing table, still trembling. When she looked in her mirror and saw him enter, she'd jumped to her feet, and stumbled back against the wall. He appeared to her in a new light now- not an enchanting creature from the gods, but a secret devil lurking behind a beautiful face. Consequently, she felt threatened by his very presence.<em>

_He stared at her for a full minute. At first, she met his eyes. As the seconds dragged on, though, she looked anywhere but at him. The wall. The floor. The window, through which she could see the palms swaying in the night breeze. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear it slamming in her ribcage, and she thought he surely had to hear it too. _

_His voice, went he finally spoke, had none of the malice from earlier that day. Instead, it was steady: _

_"Wendy, come here." He wasn't unemotional, exactly, but she couldn't read him. He said it simply, as if he were telling her the color of the sky. There was no anger, no twisted joy, no condescension. Just three words. _

_"No." _

_That one word was all Wendy had the strength to whisper. No one ever said no to Peter- and when they even attempted it, it was with grievous consequences. That very day Nibs had said no to Peter, and Peter had made him try to shoot his best friend. She dreaded what he would make her do, but she dreaded more what he would do if she went to him. _

_Perhaps sensing her reluctance, her fear, Peter approached her warily, as though she was an animal he was hunting. She couldn't bring herself to move, nor did she even have the opportunity, for by the time she made the decision, he was already standing in front of her. He was tall and imposing and as striking as ever. Unbidden, memories of him saving her over and over again materialized in her traitorous mind- when she first arrived in Neverland, when he taught her to fly, when he pulled her from the lagoon. She wanted to trust him, desperately. She wanted to believe he was the white knight she'd thought he was- a cocky white knight, admittedly, with a dash of arrogance, but with his abilities, didn't he have a right to be? Still, she reminded herself, that same, supposed white knight had shot a crossbow at her twice. It wasn't the way knights were to treat their ladies. All the storybooks told her that. _

_So what was he? _

_Peter didn't speak again for a while. He merely drew a cloth from the pouch at his belt, and lead her to her bed. Unsure what else to do, she sat down. He busied himself in the corner of her room, filling a bowl with water. As he waved his hand over the bowl, steam began to rise from it. Then, ever so gently, he dipped the cloth in the bowl and started to clean the cut he'd made on her head._

_Wendy's mouth dropped open. She'd thought he would yell at her for moving; punish her for defying him, perhaps even shoot her again. The last thing she'd expected was for him to come here and tend to her wound. Incredulous, she said: _

_"Peter, why-"_

_"There is a fairy ball tomorrow night," he cut her off, "Tink said she'd do your hair. Can't have you bleeding if you're going to dance at a ball." _

_As he soothed her reddened scalp, Wendy realized that that was the closest to an apology she would ever get from Peter Pan. He never apologized to anyone, for anything. However, if he was willing to go to a ball and dance with her (the fairies would never let her go alone; they knew Tink disliked her), and he hated to dance..._

_Maybe he wasn't entirely a demon._

* * *

><p>"Well then, Wendy Darling," Peter said, "I'll leave you to think of all your regrets," Cruelly, he added, "And I want you to know that I have <em>none<em>." As he stood up, Wendy quickly wiped the tear off her cheek. He'd brushed away all the times he'd hurt her and all the times he'd hurt others as if they were nothing. She couldn't understand it:

"You killed your friends!" she protested, "Don't you see how wrong that is? How perverse that is? And you don't even care!" She threw her sheets aside, then went to him. She searched his gaze, hoping against hope that somehow beneath the wickedness he wore like a second skin there was a trace of a conscience.

In his eyes, she saw none. Whatever strange fancy that had struck him to grant her some measure of protection in her house was gone. Whatever had prompted him, in his own way, to visit her in the night, had disappeared. There was only fire and blood and hate:

"I do care," Peter replied, "I care that they tried to kill me."

Then he vanished into the night.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: <em>

_Firstly, thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!_

_And secondly, as you've probably picked up on by now, there is a lot more to Peter and Wendy's relationship (and past) than meets the eye. All will be revealed in time. :)_

_~ladykikyo1792_


	11. Chapter 11: Kings and Queens

_Author's Note: First off, sorry this is so late. I had 2 exams and a paper, which took up a lot of time. :/ Secondly, this chapter may be edited later (I will let you know if it is) because I tried to get this up as soon as I could and I may make small changes to it as far as wording. Thirdly, if I haven't answered your review/message yet, I will ASAP- I'm just incredibly sleep deprived (last exam was today) and I need a nap. I want to make sure you get personal messages because you are kind enough to take the time to review._

_Finally, and most importantly, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!  
><em>

_~ladykikyo1792_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: Kings &amp; Queens<strong>

Peter Pan, in his element, stood before Regina in her office. He was resplendent, cocky, and triumphant all at once. He eyed the room like it belonged to him, and his gaze raked over the space as if he was appraising the values of priceless objects she would cede to him, the conqueror. Regina wanted nothing more than to rip his heart out. It was a shame that he was unlike other beings, and that it would not kill him. Too bad Wendy Darling hadn't known what _would_ kill him.

"This is what the Evil Queen uses at her throne room now?" Peter scoffed, "I believe you're missing a throne." He gestured around the chamber, giving a mocking glance to where she was seated at her desk. Her simple rolling chair was definitely not a throne.

"I believe you're wasting my time, Pan," Regina growled back, "You should have stayed dead."

"And you should have known," Pan smirked, "the game wasn't over." He met her stony glare for a long second, dancing green eyes staring into angry black. At last, Regina stated:

"I won't let you have my son." Her voice was like ice, and any other human's blood would have run cold. But Peter merely smiled and shrugged, "You don't have a choice in the matter, really. But I'll give you a chance. Let's make a game of it." He leaned towards her over the desk.

"No!" Regina insisted, standing up to face him, "No more games." At that moment, Emma walked into the room, slamming the doors shut behind her. She strode to the pair, then said:

"Or at least no more games unless the game has an end." Ensuring that there was an end to the "game"- and that Peter promised one -was the only way Emma felt the clever, stubborn eternal teenager would ever abandon his quest for Henry's heart.

Impressed by Emma's condition, Pan raised an eyebrow, "I knew you would have made a good Lost Girl." He somehow managed to make it a compliment and an insult simultaneously, and Regina resisted the urge to slap him. Emma managed to keep a her expression neutral and waited for his decision.

"Very well," Pan crossed his arms nonchalantly, "The game can have an end. If you win, I give up Henry forever. If I win..." he trailed off, the implication clear.

"Absolutely not," Regina hissed, "I will not let my son be a pawn." The very thought enraged her. Quickly, she summoned a fireball, then made as if to attack Peter. Amused, Pan merely moved backwards out of her range. Emma, sensing the fragility of the situation, grabbed Regina's arm. Holding her back, she whispered:

"Regina, this is the only way out," then inquired more loudly, "Will you play fair, Pan?"

"I always do. Cheaters never win, as you know, Lost Girl." Unbelievably, he winked at her. Undoubtedly, he was referencing the time that he had given her a map to find Henry, and Regina had put a spell on it. It hadn't worked in the Charmings' favor.

"So you agree that you won't ever go after Henry again," Emma affirmed.

"_If_ you win," Peter stipulated.

"Done," the Savior said, "Let's discuss the rules." She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. The faster she did, she reasoned, the more lives she could save.

Regina, who had no desire to play a "game" with Pan again, protested, "Emma! No!" The outcome of the last time they'd played a game with Pan had nearly cost Henry's life. She wasn't willing to just rush into a game she wasn't sure they could win.

"What if we don't play? What then, Pan?" Emma asked. She did this more so Regina could see how dire the situation was than to gather information for herself. Pan, as he knew she would, shrugged;

"I keep coming back for him until I get him."

Emma asserted, "Fine. We'll play your game. Let's settle the rules. We'll pick one, then you, and trade off. We each get three. Agreed?"

Peter, looking deranged and delighted all at once, said, "Agreed. You first, Lost Girl."

"You can't kill anyone," Emma answered. She was deathly serious.

Peter smirked, "All right." She was surprised how quickly Pan had agreed, but she was satisfied with his response. That meant no one could die. In the wake of two murders- murders that she now knew had been orchestrated by him -it was the thing she most wanted to hear: the serial killer had sworn off killing.

Completely unfazed by her rule, Peter said, "You get the day; I get the night. From sunrise to sunset, Storybrooke is yours to run and do with as you please. From dusk until dawn, it's mine-"

"To do what?" Regina narrowed her eyes. Storybrooke was hardly Neverland. It was a sleepy town in the middle of nowhere, cut off from the rest of the world. There was no resemblance between it and a realm where something could come into existence if you only just believed- her curse had deliberately taken them to a land without magic.

Pan shrugged, "To play, of course." He gave Regina a brilliant smile. His face was the picture of innocence, but behind the mask she thought he was making fun of her.

Emma, meanwhile, was confused as well. Regina had already implemented a curfew- all Storybrooke citizens were confined to their homes after nine PM now anyway. And he'd agreed not to hurt or kill anyone. What else was Pan planning on doing? His idea of playing was torture and death, and he couldn't do that if he'd sworn not to harm anyone.

"Agreed," Emma finally said, "No curses." She was trying to cover all of her bases. Physical safety, set. Now she had to focus on magical.

Peter laughed, "Why would I curse you? Besides, if you really want to feel better, the only magic I have now is the power to fly." To demonstrate, he floated a few feet off the floor, then gracefully landed before the two women.

Taking his reply for acceptance of her rule, Emma waited for his, and he demanded, "No locking up the Boys."

"Why not?"

"It's not a game if you get rid of the players," Pan explained, "Besides, I already told you I won't kill anyone. What more do you want?"

"Henry's safety," Regina said darkly. She did not trust Pan, nor negotiations with him.

The boy snickered, "If you play nicely, maybe you'll get it."

Emma racked her mind for any last possibilities. She had one last rule to curtail Peter Pan and whatever his designs were. One last chance to keep the town, its citizens, and most importantly, her son, safe. So it was that she settled on:

"No kidnapping Henry."

Before Emma could say another word, Pan breathed out, "Agreed," then, eyes dancing, he gave his own final condition: "I want your holdings."

"My _what_?" Regina blanched.

"Your holdings."

"He means your house," Emma explained. She stared directly at Pan, and he merely stared back.

"Why would you want my house?" Regina demanded. It seemed a ridiculous request, not when he could forbid them from cursing, imprisoning, or killing him- all things that she was hell-bent on doing.

Peter replied, his voice charming, "I am the leader of the Lost Boys. They need to live somewhere. I've always provided a home for them. Aside from that...I know what a throne room should look like."

Before Regina could protest, Emma whispered, "Think of Henry, Regina. He's worth more than any damn horse statue." Still, to be sure that this contract would be ironclad, she said, "We'll write it in blood. Every rule as the requesters said."

"As you say, Lost Girl," Peter gave her a mocking bow.

Sighing, Regina retrieved a scroll from her desk. She unrolled the parchment, then waved her hand over it. It hovered in the air between Emma and Pan. Confidently, Emma summarized her rules:

"You won't kill anyone. You won't curse anyone. You won't kidnap Henry." Her voice rang throughout the office.

"Storybrooke belongs to me from dusk until dawn. No one will imprison the Lost Boys. I get Regina's holdings." Peter removed his dagger, then cut his palm. He offered Emma the weapon, and she did the same. Pressing their hands together, they sealed the contract with blood. A bright light flashed around them, and Regina muttered, "It's done." She cradled the scroll in her arms, forcing herself not to shudder. The ink, made from the blood of Peter and Emma, oozed shiny and red.

Somehow, the contract made the Evil Queen herself afraid. 

* * *

><p>Wendy and Tink sat on their couch watching the morning news. Each girl was in pajamas. Wendy had a plate of untouched toast on her lap, while Tink had a bowl of cereal. She made an effort to eat it, but her eyes were glued to the screen, so sometimes the spoon never quite made it to her mouth. Regina had called an emergency press conference to alert the citizens of Storybrooke about Peter Pan's return. She was currently informing them that the curfew was still in effect, but that they had come up with a way to appease Pan and ensure their safety. She encouraged them to go about their lives as normal. Emma, sporting her sheriff's badge, then took the mic. Sidney Glass fired a barrage of questions at her, and a pensive Wendy pressed the mute button on the remote.<p>

"Do you believe it?" Wendy asked.

"Not for a second," Tink replied, "I believe they _think_ they've ensured everyone's safety, but I know there's no way they've done it," she swallowed a gulp of cereal, "What do they mean, go about our lives as normal? Do they seriously want us to go to school like nothing is wrong?"

"Wait, you're coming back to _school_ now?" Wendy inquired, stunned. Tink had attended school briefly after their arrival in Storybrooke, but she'd dropped out in two weeks or so. No one had bothered forcing the fairy to go back, and as far as Wendy knew, Tink had had zero interest in doing so.

"I have to," Tink shrugged, "It's not like you're going to drop out, and neither of us can be alone anymore. Even if Pan doesn't want to hurt you-"

"He never said he wouldn't hurt you," Wendy finished her statement softly. Hurriedly, the fairy looked away. She flushed a bit, almost ashamed. Tink thought that to Wendy, it would seem like she was using her to ensure her own safety. Although it was true that being in Wendy's presence would probably make Tink safer than leaving her alone, Wendy didn't begrudge Tink for it. She understood the desire to live in spite of horrific circumstances. She understood the desperation that clawed at your heart.

"Tink, it's okay," Wendy said, "Don't worry about it." She gave a small smile to the fairy, which Tink reluctantly returned. She didn't like being indebted to Wendy Darling. She wasn't sure if they were friends yet- more like allies -and they had never been friends in Neverland. Even if Wendy was gracious enough to let the past go, Tink still felt a bit awkward.

Just then, Wendy's cell phone beeped. The screen lit up, indicating she had a text message. Wendy reached for the phone, then read the message:

FERDINAND: So...am I ever getting an answer about the dance?

_The dance!_ Wendy had completely forgotten in the chaos of Peter Pan's arrival. Her life in Neverland had crashed into her life in Storybrooke, and already Pan was superseding everything. She sighed. Apparently, Ferdinand was taking the directions to "go about your lives as normal" to heart. That meant double-checking he had a date to the Halloween dance.

Wendy Darling had never been normal, and so she wasn't quite sure how to react to this. Gwen would have said yes. Gwen would have immediately texted Gretel and Grace, this time to go shopping for _her_ costume.

But Wendy Darling had never worn a costume, and the only dresses she ever wore to dances had been picked out by someone else. 

* * *

><p><em>The first thing Peter thought, upon seeing Wendy, was that Tink had done a fine job with her hair. Wendy's hair, such a lovely combination of honey gold and lightest brunette, was done up in curls in an elaborate bun. It wasn't like Peter Pan to note things that were pretty, but he noticed, in that moment, that Wendy Darling was pretty.<em>

_He wasn't quite sure what that meant about himself or what to do about it. _

_Wendy herself was currently admiring Tink's dress. Tink sported a green gown made out of interwoven leaves. She too had her hair in a high bun, but pink flowers were braided into it. They matched the pink flowers that encircled her waist, cinching the dress in, and emphasizing the fairy's tiny figure. _

_"Tinkerbell!" Wendy gushed, "You look lovely!" The fairy barely gave her a glance. Instead, she gave a snort of disdain, then went about adjusting some of the flower petals on her gown. She disliked Wendy as a rule- there had never been a girl on the island, before her (she felt Tiger Lily didn't count), and she hadn't liked giving up her special status. While she disliked Wendy, though, she hated that Peter was bringing her to a fairy ball. Worse, he was bringing her in a muddied nightgown, and Wendy, being the stupid girl that she was, would talk to Tink all night, desperate for information about the fairies. Peter knew about fairy society, of course, but he wasn't a fairy, and Wendy would want to hear all about fairies from a real fairy. Tink was embarrassed at the thought of being seen next to her. _

_Wendy was oblivious to Tink's contempt, but she stared at Tink's dress with unabashed admiration- and, if Peter was seeing things correctly, a bit of sadness. She wasn't jealous- it wasn't like Wendy to be jealous -but she certainly felt second best in her nightgown._

_Peter would not allow for second best. Second best was simply not something he did. _

_So with a barely perceptible flick of the hand, he gave Wendy Darling a ball gown. He pulled the image straight from her dreams, though he did add a dash of Neverland magic and his own imagination to make the dress truly special. It was made of finest white silk, with layers of organza and tulle forming the skirt. There were the smallest flecks of gold- Peter's idea- embedded in the top layer of the fabric, so that when Wendy moved, she seemed to emanate light herself. Shocked and in awe, Wendy gasped: _

_"Oh, Peter!" She threw her arms around him, and he stumbled back from her embrace. Giddy like the child she was, she ran before her mirror. She spun around, and the tulle flew up into the air around her as she giggled with delight. Peter raised an eyebrow. He'd had no idea this would make her this happy. She was _ridiculous,_ really. So excited over a gown. Such a_ girl_- _

_Though Peter scoffed at the concept, and though he was not very fond of girls, he also knew that there was something missing from her ensemble that every girl dreamed of. He sighed, and again, he flicked his hand. At once, a golden tiara settled itself among the curls on Wendy's head. _

_Abruptly, Wendy stopped spinning. Her dainty mouth open in a slight o, she raised a hand to the tiara. It was made of solid gold, and woven with a pattern of intricate flowers. It was delicate and lovely and yet seemed so important, somehow, though if anyone asked her, she could not state why. _

_At the sight, now Tink was the one who gasped. She whirled to face Peter, her face angry and red: _

_"Titania won't be happy!"_

_Peter shrugged, and an irate Tink added, "Peter, she's the _queen-"

_Peter retorted, darkly, "There are no queens in Neverland. There are no kings in Neverland. There is just me." It was a battle of wills, for a moment, with Tink and Peter staring each other down. Yet Tink knew in her heart that the island was Peter's, and the island would never fight for her. _

_Besides, Wendy added, "Oh, I would never want to offend the queen! I'm just a guest, after all." Quickly, she removed the tiara and set it on her dresser. She looked at it reluctantly for an instant, but then smiled at Peter once more. _

_"Are you sure, Wendy?" he inquired. Knowing he had won, he moved away from Tink, "You can wear the crown." He would never share his throne, ever. But for one night, if Wendy Darling wanted to be a princess, he would permit her that. After all, he'd shot her. And while Peter Pan was never one to feel guilty, or to feel regret, he did have a concept of payment. He had terrorized her yesterday, and she'd let him come into her treehouse and treat her wound. She hadn't demanded to be returned home. She'd impressed him in that way, and so he would grant her this. _

_"Yes, Peter," she affirmed, "I'm sure. I'm not a queen anyway. I've never even been good at playing one." Still, she slipped her hand into his arm, and despite every instinct in him screaming at him not to go with her, they set off for a fairy ball, a grumbling Tink stomping along behind them._

* * *

><p><em>Hours passed by, but to Wendy, they seemed like only seconds. She'd entered on Peter's arm, and endured the fairies' scrutiny. Their faces scrunched up at first in scorn- what a silly human; who could ever come to their festivities but Peter? -but when they continued to look, their eyes grew wide with wonder. Wendy was innocent and pure and so very happy. Her dress glowed, and so did she. Curiously enough, so did the boy beside her. He sat back and watched for a while as she chattered to Tink and the other fairies. Crossing his arms, he couldn't believe that the Bird found this entertaining. He'd always found balls to be so droll. A lot of talking and cozying up to a "king" and "queen"- he used the terms loosely, and only in his head, for Oberon and Titania were in Neverland only by his permission -with occasional dancing. And Peter did not like to dance. Why should he dance when he could play and hunt and fight pirates? <em>

_Wendy, however, had no such qualms. She spun and talked and was so merry that Oberon himself requested a dance with her, to which the eager Bird had immediately agreed. The fairy king smiled as he took Wendy's arms and waltzed with her around the clearing. The girl blushed prettily as he lead her into an elegant turn. _

_At this, Peter frowned. Why was the Bird smiling at Oberon like that? Why wasn't she smiling at him? Peter had saved her from drowning- twice. Peter had taught her to fly. Was that nothing in comparison to a mere dance?_

_Oberon pulled Wendy in closer, and Peter's blood boiled. He had no idea why, but he suddenly was enraged that Oberon dared to touch Wendy like that. Didn't the king know that Wendy was _Peter's_? Didn't he know that the Bird came here with_ him_? How dare Oberon hold her close like that! How dare Wendy smile at him like that!_

_For once, Peter was upset that he didn't know how to dance. He stood there in an angry silence for a few minutes- Wendy waltzing all the while, this time with a fairy nobleman, as Oberon had returned to his wife -before he came to one conclusion: _

_Maybe Peter Pan did not know how to dance, but Peter Pan knew how to fly, and unlike any fairy, he knew how to fly without wings. _

_When the song ended, the fairies politely clapped. Peter strode towards Wendy, then grabbed her hand: _

_"Come with me." At first, she was surprised and a bit saddened to be taken out of the clearing. When she realized they weren't coming back to the ball, she was even more disappointed. She'd been having such fun! If Neverland was supposed to be a place of eternal fun, why had Peter taken her away from it? _

_"Why are we leaving?" Wendy asked. She sounded crestfallen, much to Peter's displeasure. Lips set in a straight line, he continued to lead her to the Neverland shoreline. The waves lapped gently against the sand, and a mild breeze- warm as always -rustled her hair. A few curls fell from the elegant bun Tink had spent ages creating. _

_"Because I wanted to come here," Peter explained, "where the sky's open." The boy and girl gazed upwards, and true to Peter's word, the sky was a velvet black. Stars were spangled all over it, twinkling brightly in incandescent patterns that changed with every whim of Peter's. Wendy was still staring at the stars- if she wasn't mistaken, they'd started to move -when she felt Peter take his hands gently in his own. Her eyes flicked to him, and then she gasped. They were rising into the air, slowly, and Wendy swallowed the lump in her throat as Peter drew her to him, just as Oberon had done. He wrapped one hand around her waist, careful not to yank on her dress, then used the other to cradle hers. Then, slowly, they started to rotate. _

Was Peter Pan waltzing with her?_ Wendy could barely comprehend the thought. The boy was maddening and so confusing. He pulled her from waves, then shot her and laughed at her fear. Now he was dancing with her in the sky._

_While Wendy Darling could not even begin to say what she knew of Peter Pan, if she could say anything of him at all, she could say that he fascinated her. There was an aura about him that pulled her in, helpless as one of Hook's crew was to the siren song of the mermaids. He was dark and light and everything in between, and gradually, she was learning she wanted to lose herself in him. _

_The day would come when she would, but for now, there was only him and her spinning in the sky above Neverland, surrounded by the stars that moved and twinkled with them. _

* * *

><p>Later that day, Wendy retrieved her books from her locker. Tink stood by her side, carrying a backpack. Although Tink had yet to officially reenroll- or buy any new books - she simply decided to attend all of the classes she had previously been in at the beginning of the year. She shared each of them with Wendy, and they were both headed for math. Wendy carried the homework she'd attempted (and failed) to do the other day, while Tink didn't even bother with the coursework. The two girls walked calmly into the classroom as if nothing was amiss. Wendy sat into her usual seat, and Tink slid into the seat of the desk next to her. An irate Grace, seeing that her spot had been stolen, demanded:<p>

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Going back to school," Tink replied. She paid as much attention to Grace as she would a fruit fly. Zipping open her backpack, she unloaded a few of her school supplies.

"You're in my seat," Grace said coldly. Her face began to turn red. She couldn't fathom how Tink thought she could just weasel her way into Grace's life. She was Gwen's best friend, not the high school dropout.

"You should find a new one," Tink deadpanned. She crossed her legs elegantly, then placed her new notebook on the desk. She totally ignored Grace, who huffed, then walked across the room. Grace shot a hurt glance back at Wendy, who hid her face in her hands.

"I've got to say something to her," she said. She felt terribly guilty about everything that had happened over the past few days. Despite the craziness of what was going on, Grace had always been kind to her from the first day she arrived in Storybrooke. She truly was her friend, and it bothered her to see Grace so upset.

"Do you want her to die?" Tink asked, point blank. This wasn't just a school in Storybrooke anymore, filled with fairytale characters in a new life. They had to think on Neverland terms now, with the stakes equally as high. Hurt feelings were nothing in comparison to death.

"No," Wendy admitted.

"Then don't talk to her. If you show interest in anyone, then Pan will be interested in them, and we don't want anyone else to attract his attention-"

"Pan's interested in everything," a familiar voice drawled. Wendy whipped around in shock to see Felix lazily strolling into class, then taking the seat directly behind Tink. For once, even the fairy was dumbstruck. Felix smirked at their reactions.

"What are you doing here?" Wendy asked, completely flabbergasted, "You were in jail-"

"And now I'm out," Felix shrugged, "You were right, Wendy. I didn't kill the Twins. Pan pointed it out to the sheriff, and now I'm free to go." He said this as though it was the most casual thing in the world.

"You mean he commanded Emma to release you," Wendy said. As she considered the implications of that, her blood ran cold. Extremely worried, she asked:

"What else did he request?"

Felix's smirked and lounged back in his chair, "Pan doesn't request anything. People obey the king."

"He isn't the king here," Tink retorted, at last finding her voice. She stared Felix down.

At her interruption, Felix's smile disappeared. He picked up his pencil, then cocked his head, "Isn't he?" The two words hung in the air, fraught with unspoken meaning.

Tink's face drained of color, "What did he do? Oh my God, Wendy! On the news they said they'd found a way to 'appease' him. You can't just 'appease' Peter Pan. He doesn't stop playing-"

"He made a game with them," Wendy whispered, "and this morning they must have set the rules. Felix, what did they say? What did Pan say?"

In response to her question, Felix's grin returned and he asked, "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Wendy turned around and her heart sank. There, in the doorway of her classroom, stood Peter Pan, arms crossed and with a smirk on his face.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: I will do my best to get the following chapter up soon (with a flashback I really wanted to include in this one), but I figured you guys would rather have one chapter sooner than later. Hope you liked it!<em>

_~ladykikyo1792_


	12. Chapter 12: He's a Bloody Demon

_Author's Note:_

Thank you so much for all your reviews! I should have sent you all messages back (if I haven't, feel free to message me and let me know- it was entirely inadvertent and entirely the fault of my exams). I really do appreciate you all taking the time to do it; it means a lot to me!

Anyway, in this chapter you get to see another flashback that was supposed to be in the previous chapter. I originally was kind of upset that I split it apart, but now I actually am happy it's separated the way it is. Hopefully you like it too!

Enjoy!

~ladykikyo1792

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: He's a Bloody Demon<strong>

For a few seconds, Wendy didn't know what to do. Her nightmares- while graphic and brutal -had never featured _this_. She had never considered Peter Pan in Storybrooke, or at least not looking so smug about being in _high school_, of all places. He simply did not belong there, and the juxtaposition caused by his presence unnerved her. The figures of the other students and the furniture in the classroom blurred in comparison to him. He was the only clear image in her vision.

"But- you- but," she couldn't even form words properly. Her mouth opened and shut like a fish dragged from the water, the syllables she tried to speak disappearing into the air. Pan strode across the room, utterly disregarding the stunned looks he was receiving from the other students. Catlike, he leaned across her desk:

"Hello, Wendy-bird."

"Peter," she whispered, "What are you doing here?"

"Seeing you, of course," Peter replied. He smirked at her, and she wanted to vomit. The other students pointed and whispered. He was so out of place amongst them, proudly wearing his outfit of leather and stitched green leaves, but being Peter, he was oblivious to the fact that he didn't belong. He acted as though he were attired in the magnificent silks of a king, but then again, he always had. His dagger was still firmly in its hilt at his waist, the silver winking in the fluorescent light of the classroom. She blinked a bit, then stared at her lap, fully expecting to see her khaki skirt and tights morph into her familiar, tattered, white nightgown. They were back in Neverland, after all, weren't they?

Weren't they?

Suddenly, she felt very, very dizzy.

"Wendy," Tink said, alarmed, "Wendy!" She reached out and touched Wendy's arm. For the first time, Peter realized that something was wrong with her. He stood back, his eyes raking over the Bird's form, as he had many times before. She had no visible injuries, no cuts, no bruises. No bones were jutting out at weird angles. She wasn't coughing.

What was wrong with her?

Peter thought he'd said the question silently, but he was pushed aside by Tink. Simultaneously angry at him (which was not a surprise to him; Tink had never been happy with him since before he'd exiled at her) and concerned for Wendy, she knelt next to her desk. Fiercely, she whispered:

"She's in shock. Wendy, you're not in Neverland anymore. We're in Storybrooke-" The fairy brushed a strand of hair out of Wendy's face, which had gone deathly pale, and continued to murmur supplications to draw her back to reality. It failed, and Wendy blinked slowly, then struggled to stand. Her footsteps were incredibly unsteady, but that didn't matter, she told herself. She _had_ to get away from Peter. She wouldn't let him mock her, not again. She had to run- she had to go- but he would chase her through the forest, so she needed to go quickly. She might only get a few moments respite from his cutting words and dancing green eyes, but she had to try, she had to run-

She made it two paces before she fainted, her body crumpling to the linoleum floor.

Peter immediately lunged forward and caught her. Her hair tangled in the leather cuffs he wore about his wrists.

"Bird, I'm here now," he muttered. From anyone else, it would have sounded like comfort, but from him, it sounded like a dangerous reassurance: yes, Peter Pan _was_ in Storybrooke. He was no longer in Neverland, and while Wendy had subconsciously known he had entered her world here, she hadn't quite grasped the extent of his entrance until he walked into her classroom. But she needed to accept it, and in time, Peter knew she would.

For now, though...

Peter gathered her into his arms. He cast a glance at Felix, who informed him:

"We should go to the nurse's office." As usual, his second had understood what he wanted without words. Heeding his advice- as much as Peter did not like to be unaware of what to do, Felix _had_ been in this world longer -Peter walked towards the classroom door. Again, he paid no heed to the students.

"Gwen!"

Peter raised one eyebrow at the young man who rushed towards them. He was tall, with rather unremarkable black hair and brown eyes. Peter, who had an eye for such things, knew he would have made a terrible Lost Boy. This one, whoever he was, lacked true fire- Peter's smallest Lost Boy would have gutted him in three seconds if they were to fight. He was unabashedly ordinary, and Peter despised the ordinary.

"Her name is Wendy," he practically snarled at the trespasser (he was not a Neverlander, and therefore, he had no stake in the situation).

The boy's face grew red with anger, "Her name, as she's told everyone here, is Gwen. She's always told me that-"

"Yes," Felix drawled, "because you weren't worthy to hear otherwise." Pan's deputy had come to stand behind him, waiting for his orders. He may have been clad in a brown sweatshirt in place of his canvas hood, but he was still Pan's most loyal follower. That meant his place was with Pan- unless Pan commanded otherwise.

Tink, who awkwardly stood next to the Lost Boy, urged the non-Neverlander plaintively, "Ferdinand, don't provoke him-" She clutched Wendy's schoolbooks (her excuse for joining Peter and Felix) to her chest like a shield.

Ferdinand, who as a prince, thought himself courageous, entirely flouted her warning. He strutted up to Peter and asked:

"Why not? Who does he think he is?"

In that moment, Tink thought he was the stupidest boy who'd ever lived. He _had_ to know. Who else would be standing in an outfit of stitched leaves carrying _Wendy Darling in his arms_?

Peter sneered at Ferdinand:

"Oh, did I forget to introduce myself?" he taunted the foolish prince who'd dared to challenge a king, "I'm Peter. Peter Pan."

With that, he departed the classroom. Felix gestured for Tink to go first. The fairy cast a worried look backwards, but the Lost Boy glared at her. Her cheeks coloring, she hurried after Peter.

Ferdinand made to go with them, but Felix blocked his exit. He pulled his switchblade, flicking it open:

"Don't cross Pan." His voice was deadly.

"Or what?" Ferdinand demanded.

Felix smiled, "He'll give you a scar to match mine."

* * *

><p><em>Wendy Darling hadn't realized the implications of Peter Pan attending the fairy ball with her. She knew how it affected her, of course. She blushed every time she was in his presence, and found herself trying to sneak little touches or secret looks with him. Most of the Boys with the exception of Felix, didn't notice. The older boy would stare pensively at Peter and Wendy, while Tink rolled her eyes. Peter, though, acted as if nothing had changed. <em>

_But everything had, and not just between them. _

_The night that Wendy Darling and Peter Pan had danced among the stars, Captain Killian Jones, cruelly nicknamed "Captain Hook," by Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, had been standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger. It had become his habit to do this, every few nights. He was trying to track the stars and find a way out of Neverland. The constellations here did not match the ones he had been taught, and while he understood that, it didn't stop him from trying. Aside from that, he knew, deep in his heart, that no one could get off the island without Pan's permission. He had no leverage against Peter Pan. The boy simply did not want anything Hook could offer. _

_That was, until the night Hook spied Peter and Wendy. He'd been unaware of her presence in Neverland before. Peter Pan never sent his Shadow to find girls, and Tinkerbell spent her time divided between the Lost Boys and the fairy folk. The Indians, who mostly kept to the part of the island designated as theirs by Peter, did not mingle with the Lost Boys, except in battle, when the Boys grew bored with fighting the pirates and wanted a different distraction._

_Wendy was truly the only girl to have walked on Neverland's soil. She was the only girl- the only person -to have danced with Peter Pan. The very notion of Pan dancing did not sit well with Hook. It did not match anything he knew of him. Pan enjoyed the sinister and cruel; hunting and fighting and occasionally, killing. _

_Dancing? That was an activity far too soft for him. _

_But if Pan deigned to dance with the girl, Hook reasoned she had to mean something to Pan. _

_And so he decided that Wendy would be his leverage. _

_It was almost too easy to get the girl, really. Since the ball, Wendy spent an inordinate amount of time on the shoreline. Hook was a romantic, and he assumed that she was probably daydreaming and reliving the night that Peter and she had danced. Though the girl could see the Jolly Roger, she was untroubled by it. As Hook had never seen her, she had never seen him- Pan had never let her fight with the Boys, so she'd never met the pirates. She knew they existed, of course, but she also knew the Boys won almost every battle against them. They weren't a threat to her. Thus she felt utterly comfortable collecting shells on the beach as the ship lolled gently in the distance. _

_Thus his two men were able to kidnap her without her even having the chance to scream. _

_When she was brought aboard, they brought her to his chambers. He didn't risk Wendy screaming- not yet -but while he was a pirate, he was also a gentleman, and he wanted Wendy to understand that they would not harm her. _

_Hook gestured for the trembling girl to take a seat, and she sank into the oak chair across from him at his dining table. He took a gold goblet, and inquired: _

_"Rum or whiskey?"_

_Wendy's blue eyes widened. She stammered: "I'm- I'm just a little girl!" She kept glancing from Hook to the goblet and back again, utterly terrified. She couldn't find it in herself to scream, for Hook hadn't done anything she'd expected him to do. Peter and the Boys had emphasized that the pirates were a bloodthirsty lot, and that they did the island good by keeping the pirates at bay. She'd believed Hook would try to kill her, not sit her down and offer her a drink. _

_Hook replied, "You must not have been on the island long then." He shrugged, and poured the tiniest bit of whiskey into her cup. _

_Wendy edged back in her chair, squirming, "I don't know how long I've been here-"_

_The pirate laughed, "If you still think of yourself as a child, lass, I can assure you, it's not that long. In time though, you won't think of yourself as a child. You'll be a grown woman trapped in a girl's body, and then, you'll acquire a taste for whiskey." _

_Wendy's gaze flicked down to the goblet for a second, then she pushed it away. Haughtily, she sniffed: _

_"_That_ will never happen." _

_"I hope it doesn't," Hook said earnestly, "I hope we both get off this godforsaken island before then." His voice was bitter, and Wendy swallowed the snobby retort that she'd been preparing to say. She had always been empathetic to the feelings of others, and she was shocked to discover that Hook was sad- though he'd probably never admit that. Still, she probed: _

_"Wait, you want to leave? Leave Neverland?" She couldn't imagine such a thing. It was the place children visited in their dreams. It was place she had always wanted to visit for real. And now that she had, she admitted it was a bit more wild than she had first thought, but it was still incredible. How could anyone want to leave? _

_"That's what I've always wanted, lass. Neverland has never been kind to me. It's not a kind place, and neither are the people in it." Hook took a swig from a bottle- rum was apparently his drink of choice. And though he was enough of a gentleman to offer a goblet to a lady, he clearly did not need such niceties for himself. He didn't meet her eyes, and instead focused on a small spot on the wall. He wasn't thinking much of her, anymore, she realized. _

_Wendy was nothing if not curious, so she asked, "What do you mean? Neverland's wonderful-" _

_"It starts out that way, lass. It's a land of dreams and opportunities, but then the dreams reveal themselves to be nightmares and the opportunities to be traps," Hook stated flatly. He said this as a fact, and though she did not know it, he had many years of experience with the subject. Nevertheless, she picked up on his tone. _

_"I'm sure that's not true," Wendy said, "Peter rules Neverland-" _

_"Exactly," Hook answered, turning to her again, "I know you care for him, girl, but you should know that though he may look like a boy, but he's a bloody demon." _

_"Peter Pan is not a demon!" she insisted._

_Hook, face filled with pity, said, "I give you a few hours before you stop believing that."_

_"I will never stop believing in Peter!" Wendy said fiercely. She'd promised Peter that, and it was true. She would never stop believing in him. He'd always been there for her. He'd always saved her. He promised to always catch her. She believed every word with every fiber of her being. _

_"I never said you'd stop believing, just that you'd stop believing he was good."_

_Angry now, and certain she now understood Hook's intentions, Wendy demanded, "And you plan to force me to do that?" He was as evil as everyone said! Corrupting her belief in Peter! _

_"I plan to let him show you that," Hook explained, "You see, I want to leave this island." He stood and began to pace around the cabin. Every so often, he glanced out the window. To his satisfaction, and a bit to his nervousness, he noticed that the normally white, fluffy clouds had become gray. _

_The island, and Pan, knew something was amiss. It wouldn't be long now. Hook took another drink. _

_Oblivious to this, Wendy asked,"Why?" He hadn't given her a real answer before, just a vague allusion to his history. Wendy was a storyteller, and she wanted the details to Hook's story- not just fragments and pieces to create a haphazard puzzle. _

_"If you really want to know, lass, someone killed my true love a long time ago. That man still walks free. I want to kill him," Hook said the words plainly, without relish or hatred. He didn't seem excited by the prospect of death, just that he _needed_ it to occur. Like most needed water, Hook needed this man to die. _

_Wendy knew that murder was bad. She knew she should detest Hook for wanting such a thing, and that she should applaud Peter for keeping him in Neverland to prevent another man's death (for she was sure that was the only reason Peter kept Hook here). Yet as she watched Hook drink, morose and depressed, she couldn't help but be filled with a burst of pity for him. She wanted true love herself, someday, and if someone ever tried to take it from her...she would do anything to stop it. If someone succeeded, perhaps she might want to kill them too. _

_She hoped she was never put in that position. _

_"I'm sorry," Wendy said softly. Her blue eyes, much to Hook's surprise, were actually brimming with tears. The girl truly pitied him and his predicament. At that, he understood why Pan was at least, somewhat intrigued by her- Wendy had a heart great enough to care for those who had no hearts at all. And if Hook had a dark heart, Peter's was surely darker- probably the darkest heart that ever beat. _

_When had anyone ever cared for Peter Pan? Not feared him- many feared him -but cared for him? _

_Hook supposed it was probably never, though he was hardly about to risk his life to ask Pan. _

_"I'll talk to him for you," Wendy offered, "I'm sure I can get him to let you go." She smiled hopefully at him, and Hook envied her naivete. He also hated himself as he was going to steal it from her. _

_"Pan doesn't do talking, lass. Pan does exchanges. I'm going to give him you so that he will give me freedom." Somehow, Hook felt the need to explain this to her. It came out sounding almost like an apology. In the few minutes he'd spent with her, he'd come to like Wendy, and he wanted her to understand not only his motivations, but his actions. He wouldn't hurt her- it had never been about that. She was merely part of the exchange. _

_Just then, the sky grew black. Lightning flashed in the sky, and the sound of thunder rumbled through the Jolly Roger. The waves tripled in size and force, slamming against the ship and making it roll violently from side to side._

_"Captain!" his first mate burst through the door, "He's here!" The man was panting and terrified. He struggled to hang onto the wall in the fury of the storm. Wendy shrieked as she toppled out of the chair, and Hook grabbed her before she could go smashing through the window into the sea. He held her flush against him, then forced his way past the man onto the deck. _

_"Hurry," Hook ordered, "Tie her to the mast. It's the only way to keep him from sinking the ship!" Wendy blanched, and meant to say all manner of horrible things to him, but Hook merely offered her a bow._

_"My apologies, love," the pirate said, "but rest assured, you won't be hurt and you will survive this. However, you're the key for us to survive." Before Wendy could say another word, his first mate hustled her off. Rapidly, he tied her to the mast. Wendy, seeing just how big the waves were- and hearing the cracking of the wood in the ship -screamed._

_"Peter! PETER!" she yelled his name until her throat burned. Tears slid down her cheeks, but he must have heard her, for suddenly, the waves stopped. The thunder and rain continued, but oddly, ominously, the ocean was calm. The contradiction was eerie, and she couldn't help but shiver, even in her bonds. Then, Peter's voice rang out: _

_"You took something of mine. Dangerous mistake, Captain," he warned as he appeared out of the shadows, "Fatal one." To emphasize his point, he casually stabbed the closest pirate who had the misfortune to be near him. The poor man gurgled as blood bubbled up in his throat, choking on his own life's essence before falling to the ground, dead. There was a brief moment of quiet as they all watched him die. Peter was smiling with satisfaction- the cut he'd made would inflict death with utmost pain. Hook grimaced, forcing the guilt down. Wendy's tears flowed faster._

_Once the man's grunts of pain ended, Hook swallowed: _

_"No need for that, Pan. I haven't harmed the lass, and you can gladly have her back. I just want to negotiate first." He gestured to a red-faced Wendy, who was determined not to let any more tears fall. Nevertheless, Peter saw her red-rimmed eyes and how she was still shaking, though the ropes were tied forcefully around her. It infuriated him._

_"What do you want?" _

_"Free passage out of Neverland for me and my crew. I want vengeance against my Crocodile, and I can't get that here," Hook answered immediately. This was the moment. This was his one chance to leave, and he prayed to God that the devil-boy took the bait. If he didn't... _

_Amused now, Peter said, "I've told you, Hook. We're business partners. Your pirates amuse my boys and in return I let you live. It's an even trade." He laughed, and the Lost Boys, who had followed him- as they always followed him -onto the ship, laughed with him. _

_"Life and death isn't something to be traded," Hook said seriously, and Wendy, even in her state, couldn't help but agree with him. _

_"In Neverland, where no one ever dies of old age, of course it is. Now you will give me back Wendy, or find _all_ of your crew slaughtered. And perhaps you'll be missing a second hand," Peter promised. His eyes glittered, and so Hook could understand the seriousness of his threat, he waved the Boys forward. Each Lost Boy positioned himself next to a pirate, weapon poised to strike. The pirates moved their hands to their swords, but Hook commanded: _

_"Hold!" _

_Obediently, the pirates did not touch their blades, but they kept their hands as close to the sheaths as they could. The Lost Boys, meanwhile, sported feral grins. Quite a few snickered at the pirates' predicament. Wendy barely recognized them. The very same Boys who sat and listened to her stories and called her Mother, bringing her gifts and clamoring for attention, now looked like wild animals. They were wolves circling about their prey, waiting to play with it as it cried out its pain. _

_It frightened her. _

_Hook made the fatal decision to try one last time, "Pan, let us leave. Let us go, and I'll let you have the lass back." He walked slightly towards Wendy, and began to unsheath his sword. He would never have actually hurt her, of course. He was just betting that this final threat would be enough to get Pan to give in. _

_In retrospect, Hook would say that given all his years in Neverland, he really should have known better. _

_"_Let _me have her back?" Peter hissed like a cat. His eyes narrowed into slits, "Wendy is _mine_, Hook. I will take her back. I was going to give you the chance to keep your crew alive- but you made that choice for me-"_

_"Pan, wait-" Hook began, but it was far too late. _

_"Come on, Boys!" Peter hollered. He brushed the blood off his dagger, then declared, his smile utterly maniacal, "Let's play!" _

_Wendy shut her eyes after that. _

_True to his word, Peter painted the planks of the Jolly Roger red with the blood of its crew. The Lost Boys helped, of course- most had grown to care for "Mother" and were displeased at her capture. Felix, while not fond of Wendy at all, was particularly effective at- and greatly enjoyed -bashing pirates' skulls in. Blood mixed into the wood and bits of bone flew through the air. Though Wendy kept her eyes closed- Rufio yelling to her all the while it would be okay; she just needed to not to look for a few minutes more -Peter's triumphant crowing rang into her ears. It mixed with the death shrieks of pirates and the cries of injured boys. She wished she could block her ears too, but her hands were tied far too tightly behind her back. So she squeezed her eyes shut even harder, ignoring the blood splashing onto her face and trying desperately to ignore the sound of metal slicing into flesh. She couldn't understand how the boy mercilessly murdering an entire crew of pirates was the same boy who'd held her so tenderly the other night. It was as if they were two different souls slammed into the same body, and that body called himself Peter Pan. _

_Hook, beside her, murmured, "Now you see what I mean, lass. He may look like a boy, but he's a bloody demon. Be careful." He dragged his sword, streaked with the blood of Lost Boys, behind him, but he'd apparently despaired on wielding it any longer. Although Wendy never wanted the Lost Boys to be wounded, she was aghast that Hook had given up so easily. _

_"Aren't you going to defend them?" she asked accusingly. These men had been loyal to Hook, and had apparently been for many years. They deserved better than Hook just standing aside while they were killed in cold blood. _

_"I know when a battle's lost," Hook told her, "and this one has been lost many times over. My crew are all dying or dead already. The reason that I'm still standing is because Pan wouldn't ever kill me. I provide too much amusement for him. And he wants me to see this. He wants me to remember that I'm always in his power. You should be careful to remember that you are too, and leave Neverland while you still can."_

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><p>Peter couldn't stand watching Wendy in the nurse's office. They didn't seem to care that the Bird was unconscious. They simply covered her with a blanket and told him she would wake up in a few minutes. Then they kicked him out, and as Peter had promised that Storybrooke belonged to the Evil Queen and the Savior in the daytime, he had to follow their rules- and the nurse's rules, by extension, and so he had to wait. Peter Pan never waited, and normally, he would have healed her himself. However, he could hardly force her to awaken with magic- not without alerting the Evil Queen and the Savior -that he'd lied to them. They'd been duped so easily, though he'd expected that. Still, it was to his advantage that they remained clueless of his true powers, and since both Felix and Tink had assured him the nurse was a reliable source of medical treatment, he'd sucked in his anger and left. He would do other things until the Bird woke up. Tink, for reasons Peter didn't understand- the fairy had never once been friendly to Wendy -was genuinely concerned for her. Stubbornly, she informed the nurse she would wait outside. Pan wasn't quite sure what to make of the fairy's newfound affection for Wendy, but he trusted Felix, so he left his second to stand guard outside the door while he went to seek out certain Lost Boys.<p>

Peter wandered around the school, loitering in doorways as those bizarre, piercing bells clanged. The sound was shrill in his ears, annoying and frantic. Students rushed into the hallway at their peals, as if summoned by a supernatural force. They were clamoring and opening lockers, running with books about, scrambling to get to some other location.

It hardly seemed _fun_. Why would anyone want this? _None_ of his Boys would have. Not the _true_ ones, anyway. This was not the life of a Lost Boy, held enslaved to metal bells whose shrieks could not compare to the shrieks of battle.

Peter spotted one such boy darting down the corridor. The boy's face was contorted into a strange combination of stress, misery, and hope. He'd head the rumor that Peter was here then.

Good.

"Slightly," Peter whispered. Ever the Lost Boy, trained to respond to Peter's every command, Slightly heard him- even amidst the chaos of changing classes. Instincts honed over the years in Neverland, he dropped his books to the floor, crouched, and removed a switchblade from his pocket. He stood frozen, listening for more.

Peter resisted the urge to laugh.

Once a Lost Boy, always a Lost Boy.

"Slightly," Peter said again, this time materializing right behind him. Slightly spun around, and a million emotions flashed through his eyes on the sight of Peter. Disbelief. Happiness. Fear. A crippling desire to run, and the knowledge to know that he would never, ever, make it.

"Pan." He tilted his chin upwards.

Peter had to give him credit for not letting the fear show. He stared him down, but instead of slitting Slightly's throat, he said:

"I know you, Slightly. We've been friends for so long. You _hate_ school. You always did. You hated it when we went together. You want me to trust that you like it now?"

Slightly was silent. He neither confirmed nor denied Peter's assertions. Either answer could result in his death.

"You want me to believe," Peter continued, incredulous, "that you_ like_ this life?" He gestured to the hallways.

Again, Slightly was silent. Despite himself, his heart gave a pang at Peter's words. Storybrooke was boring, and stifling, and Slightly had gone from being an astonishing, remarkable being, an eternal warrior in service to the most extraordinary being of all, to a nobody. Just one of many boys in the town, shoved into a family who didn't really want the responsibility of him. They tried to welcome him, but every so often, Slightly could see in their eyes the disappointment and the confusion. Just what _was_ he? Could he really be said to be a boy, they wondered, when he had lived hundreds of years? Did he need parents? Did he want them? Would he execute them in their sleep, desperate to play again the games of blood and war Peter had taught him to love?

While Slightly had never truly wanted to murder them, he couldn't deny that sometimes he did long for the fire and heat of battle. He yearned for his bow and arrow, for blood on his hands, for Peter's approval for slaughtering a pirate. He craved it, he craved the freedom of being a Lost Boy, he craved the wildness of Neverland.

"Tell me, Slightly. Why _did_ you betray me?"

For a long time, Slightly didn't answer, but then he said, "It was a mistake, Peter. A stupid mistake." He'd been afraid of Peter in those last days, when his madness was apparent. And Emma Swan and the others had offered him something he'd always wondered about in Neverland- a family. A home. Slightly was one of the few Lost Boys who did not have entirely negative memories about this land. Unlike the others, his parents had merely died- of influenza, the doctors had said, as if that was supposed to make him feel better when he lost both them at once and was yanked out of the second family he'd had at school. So though he adapted well to Neverland, and appreciated the friends- the third family -he'd gained there, a part of him had wondered if what it would be like to have real parents again.

And when the other boys gave in, so did he. They'd used that temptation against him.

"It was a mistake, Slightly, wasn't it?" Peter hissed, idly playing with his dagger. He knew Slightly could hear it, and the boy swallowed. Though he was obviously wary- Slightly was not a fool, and he was well-aware of Peter's prowess -he also refused to show it. This was a lesson Peter had taught him, and it pleased Peter that Slightly still remembered it. _Slightly_ was a Lost Boy. Ferdinand, he thought scornfully, could learn from him.

Feeling generous, Peter said, "But we've been friends for such a long time. One of the first Lost Boys. So I want to give you a chance to rectify it." He smiled at Slightly, and despite his normal persona of arrogance and power, there was some genuineness in it. Slightly recognized that, and looked up hopefully.

Seeing he had won, Peter ordered, "Show me you're loyal. Get rid of a threat to us. Get rid of someone who can't be trusted," he held his hand out to Slightly, "And if you do...then you can come home to Neverland with me, and this whole thing will be forgotten."

Slightly took his hand.

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><p><em>Author's Note:<em>

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it!

~ladykikyo1792


	13. Chapter 13: Wings & Shadows

_Hi! As always you guys are awesome and fabulous for reviewing. Everyone with user names should have gotten messages (p.s., Hildebrant, please keep supplying song lyrics, because I'm getting obsessed with them as future chapter titles); if not, I'm so sorry and shall fix it ASAP! For those without user names (the Guests and Lil), thank you for reading and reviewing as well; the Ninth and Tenth Doctors are my favorite, so it's great to be compared to them._

_My apologies this is short, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for a long time, especially since I'm going into exam period. You will get something longer soon!_

_Thanks again for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoy it!_

_~ladykikyo1792_

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><p><strong>Chapter 13: Wings &amp; Shadows<strong>

Outside the nurse's office, Tinkerbell sat on a wooden bench. Felix took Pan's command to stand guard literally, and was currently blocking the door. His arms were crossed, and he glared at anyone who walked by, though he was absolutely silent. She kept sneaking glances at him, but he didn't notice- or at least pretended he didn't.

Still, the fairy felt compelled to talk, and said, "So, Pan's back."

Felix's gray gaze fixed on her, and he gave her a barely perceptible nod before turning to scan the hallway again. Although they were both more than aware there was zero threat to Wendy in the nurse's office, Peter had still ordered him to be alert, and so he would.

"What now?" Tink asked. She didn't really expect him to tell her. He was a quiet boy in general, and if he knew Pan's plan, he would never reveal it. As she thought he would, he replied:

"What do you think, Tinkerbell?" His voice was harsher, without his typical drawl.

"We go home?" Tink hazarded, trying not to incense him further. Pan was the deadliest killer out of the Lost Boys, but Felix was the most precise. If he wanted to kill her, he would decide to and do it immediately and without remorse. Tink didn't want to risk that- if there was anything being on Neverland had taught her, it was the value of her own life.

"'We?'" Felix repeated. His eyes bored into hers. Hurriedly, Tink looked away. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind in her ear, trying not to let her embarrassment show. Though he was right- why would she be included? Peter's aim was, most likely, to return to Neverland and resume his post as king. He would do everything in his power to take Wendy with him. Felix, of course, would go- the loyal knight always accompanied the king. And, if Pan had his way, a fresh crop of Lost Boys, both some of the old corps and new recruits, would go and fill out the members of his court.

But Tinkerbell? She'd been exiled from the court a long time ago. Why would she be brought back?

More importantly, she told herself, why had she even _asked_? The entire reason she'd betrayed Pan was to get _away_ from Neverland. She should be happy to be in Storybrooke and fight to keep Wendy with her- and send Pan back where he came from, without either of them in his clutches.

"Never mind," Tink muttered. She shifted her position, fixing her stare on the lockers across the hall- so she didn't see the pensive look Felix gave her.

"You betrayed Pan," he pointed out the very thing that made her irredeemable. It was the highest crime in Neverland, and one for which there was no forgiveness. The land itself would despise her.

"Yes," Tink admitted. She couldn't deny it, nor would she.

"He wouldn't take you back. Not alive."

"I know," she swallowed, "Forget I mentioned it."

* * *

><p><em>"What are you doing wandering around this part of the island?" a familiar voice drawled, "Don't the fairies have some sort of ball?" <em>

_"Felix, I really do not want to talk to anyone right now," Tinkerbell said. She sat behind a tree, the leaves obscuring her from his view. She hugged her knees close to her chest, though the Neverland night was hardly cold. _

_The Lost Boy stopped as he noticed Tink's voice was without it's normal haughty bite. She sounded incredibly vulnerable. In fact, she sounded as if she was holding back tears. Confused, he carefully stepped through the underbrush to her. As he rounded the tree, he realized that she was forcing herself not to sob. Worse, he realized why: her wings were gone. Jagged scars crisscrossed down the fairy's back, the lines covered in old blood. Her glowing, effervescent aura was gone, and her green dress was torn and covered in dirt. Her cheek bore a blue bruise. _

_Felix was no stranger to gore. He enjoyed it. He got a physical high from inflicting pain upon others. But the sight of Tink, wounded and without her wings, caused a feeling of intense revulsion in his gut. It was perhaps the first time he'd ever felt bad for anyone in Neverland- other than himself. _

_"Tink, who did this to you?" he crouched beside her, reaching towards one of the scars, but she slapped his hand away. _

_"Stop!" she hissed, "Just stop. It hurts enough without you rubbing it in." Despite her efforts, a tear did slip down her cheek then. _

_"I'm not rubbing it in," he said, quite seriously. _

_Taken aback by his reaction, Tink studied him, wary. He was utterly calm- then again, the only time she ever saw him show any sort of emotion was in the heat of battle. Still, she stared at him, her eyes wild as a frightened animal's. _

_Finally deciding he genuinely wasn't mocking her, Tink said, "I tried to help someone, but I had to steal pixie dust to do it." _

_"So?" _

_"Blue didn't like that I tried to help Re- this person. She said that the person was evil and didn't deserve help. That she was surrounded by darkness. To me...that's the kind of person who needs help. But Blue disagreed, and then- then, she said she didn't believe in me. When she said that...it ripped my wings off." Fiercely, she brushed tears off her cheeks. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. How was Felix supposed to understand her situation? He didn't do helping people, unless one counted the twisted form of help Pan practiced by bringing boys to the island. _

_Felix frowned,"Oberon and Titania won't like this-" Though Tink was admittedly surprised Felix knew anything about fairy culture- only Peter deigned to associate with them -she replied, her tone despairing: _

_"Blue is Titania's sister. She's already heard, and they sent a messenger to tell me I will never be welcome at the fairy court- because I'm not a fairy anymore." The words were terribly final. Tink had lost everything that made her special- not just her identity, but her family. She had nothing, and there was nothing she could do to gain it back. _

_Felix didn't tell her he was sorry. He didn't give her words of comfort. Instead, he sat beside her for a while, then put an arm around her and tried to help her to her feet: _

_"We have to tell Pan." _

_"No!" Tink insisted, "I can't face him. I can't face any of them- not like this. Never like this." She was so ashamed- a fairy without wings! No, not even a fairy anymore- _

_"Tink, he'll know. He always does, but it's better if we tell him first." _

_"Why?"_

_Felix grit his teeth, "Because he needs to see it." _

_"Felix, I can't," Tinkerbell said, "Just...give me some time to heal. Or at least to clean up." _

_After a long minute, he said, "Two days."_

_"Two days," she agreed. As she walked off into the night, Felix watched her go, gray eyes inscrutable. _

_A few hours later, Felix told Pan the story, and asked if he approved of Felix's idea. Pan did. _

_By the sunrise of the second day, all the fairies of Neverland were dead._

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><p>When Wendy awoke, it was under bright fluorescent lights instead of thousands of stars. Instead of the breeze of her treehouse, there was only the crack of the radiator. She didn't wear her nightgown, but rather a khaki skirt and ripped black tights, and in place of the lacy blankets she'd had for hundreds of years, a cheap cotton blanket was laid over her.<p>

No, she was definitely in school. She sighed.

The nurse heard her intake of breath, rushed over, and did a cursory check over her. Since Wendy was now conscious and otherwise fine, she merely gave her a juice-box and some crackers. Obediently, Wendy sipped until the box was empty. She only nibbled at the crackers, but there was no reason for her to eat them really- she'd fainted because of an eternal boy, not low blood sugar. Still, it made the nurse happy, and at last, she was cleared to go.

Cautiously, Wendy opened the door, fully expecting to see Peter. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of Felix's back.

At the sight, she let out a loud breath, "Really?" It wasn't the first time Felix had ever been sent to guard her, but she really saw no reason why he was to do so now. In Neverland, there had at least been a reason- there were pirates and all sorts of rogue wild creatures (and as Wendy herself was never proficient enough with a weapon to face a raging tiger or a furious pirate) -but in school? The only thing that could harm her was Peter himself.

Tink shoved Felix aside, "Yes, really. Apparently you get a shadow now." It should have been a joke, but from a Neverlander, it was simultaneously a warning and an insult. Felix rolled his eyes at Tink's antics, and while he could easily have stopped the fairy, he let her push him so Wendy and she could speak.

Tink, after all, wasn't going to harm Wendy.

Wendy said, "It wouldn't be the first time," she eyed Felix, "Am I imprisoned in the nurse's office, or can I go back to class?" Admittedly, she was embarrassed by what had happened, but she couldn't constantly collapse every time she saw Pan. She had to get on with her life- or get on with it as much as she could with him here.

At least until she could figure out what to do about it.

"That depends," Felix deadpanned, "Are you planning on fainting again?" Wendy glared at him, and Felix smirked. Deciding that he wouldn't stop her, Wendy walked into the hall. Tink slipped her arm into Wendy's. Without the girl noticing, the fairy surreptitiously looked back at Felix. He kept his gaze trained on them, and followed them as they passed the myriad of lockers. Classes had just changed, and while Wendy was undeniably late, she still intended on going to English.

As Wendy retrieved her books from her own locker, she asked, "Are you still going to follow me around all day?"

Felix drawled, "Tink does."

"We have the same classes!" Tink retorted, "You don't. You have no reason to be following her-"

"I'm not following her," Felix replied, "I'm _guarding_ her. Pan commanded me to. I am loyal to him."

The rest of the words were unspoken: _Unlike you_.

Wendy paused, looking back and forth from Tink to Felix, unable to discern the source of tension between them. Felix's expression was uncharacteristically stern. While he rarely showed true emotion, he was usually smirking and making fun of something- or someone. Now, facing Tink, he had anger in his eyes. Not the fierce, violent rage that represented Peter's displeasure, but an anger that had been smoldering and simmering for centuries.

That was when Wendy understood.

"Oh my God," she whispered, "Him? Tink, _him_!?" She was utterly incredulous. Tink simply looked away and refused to answer.

* * *

><p><em>Hi, so I know this was super short and lacked Peter and I promise you will get more later, but since I hadn't posted in a while I wanted to give you guys at least a short snippet! I promise, Peter will come back next chapter and be his usual self.<em>

_Thanks for reading!_

_~ladykikyo1792_


	14. Cha14: Scars are Souvenirs We Never Lose

_Author's Note: Per usual, you are all super awesome and fabulous not only for reading, but being so amazingly patient with me. In good news, EXAMS ARE OVER AND I'M ON BREAK! So we should have more frequent chapters._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed; you should have gotten personal messages if you have a username. If you didn't, feel free to message me and remind me to tell you how amazing you are. To Lil, thank you for reviewing. And that's an impossible question! Personally I adore Rose, but I really like Captain Jack too._

_Finally, shout out to Hildebrant for the chapter title._

_As always, I hope you all enjoy and would love to hear what you think._

_~ladykikyo1792_

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><p><strong>Chapter 14: Scars are Souvenirs We Never Lose<strong>

_It was unexpected, simple, and not at all how Tinkerbell thought love was supposed to happen. She'd thought it would be bright and blazing, with all the fierce power of a storm. Yet her feelings for Felix grew slowly. Ever since the day he'd shown compassion over her lost wings, she'd seen him in a new light. _

_She didn't approve of his murder of the Neverland fairies, but she knew that, in his way, he'd been seeking justice for her. It wasn't the typical bloodlust he usually had, that spiraled up occasionally and compelled him to hurt. It had an inspiration, a source, and while a part of her felt like she was responsible for the annihilation of all of the fairies on the island, a part of her was amazed her pain had triggered what could only be described as a vengeful, protective action from him. _

_Tink realized then that Felix wasn't the single-minded, savage boy she'd thought. So, curious, and utterly without anything else to do, since the fairies were gone- none of the other boys were close to her age, save Peter, and he was always concerned with Wendy -she'd started talking to Felix- if it could be called that. Most nights she'd just sit by him at the fire and talk at him. She tried engaging him in conversation, but he rarely answered. Still, he never told her to leave, and as he fiercely dispatched anyone he was tired of listening to, she figured he couldn't be entirely miserable listening to her. _

_Finally, one night he talked back. Tink had asked him what brought him to Neverland. All of the Lost Boys had their histories, and she was curious about Felix's. He was one of the first Lost Boys. She couldn't remember a moment since she'd met Peter that Felix hadn't been nearby, the loyal knight of Neverland to his dark king. Still, he'd been someone before he was the knight, and Tink believed it was that someone who had been so enraged by the fairies' treatment of her. Accordingly, she wanted to know more. _

_"Not the Shadow," Tink amended, "but what made you Lost?" She leaned forward and crossed her legs, studying his face in the glow of the fire. _

_To her surprise, he was utterly calm as he told her: _

_"My father left when I was a baby, and my stepfather was a drunk. He used to beat my mother all the time. When I was young, I couldn't do anything to defend her. I sat by and watched while he hurt her, over and over, and I wanted to kill him. _

_"Finally, I grew up," Felix uttered the forbidden words (he was confident, as Peter was away with Wendy, that he would not be punished), "He hit my mother, and one day, I hit him back. He punched me, hard, and while I was on the floor, my head spinning, he hit her so hard he killed her."_

_Tink gasped, but Felix didn't react. His voice was entirely flat as he detailed that dreadful day. _

_"Even though I was hurt, I got up, and I swore I **would** kill him. We fought for what seemed like hours. Finally I tripped, and he pinned me to the floor. When he took a knife to slash my throat, someone kicked him across the room. Instead of cutting my throat, the knife cut my cheek. I took advantage of the opening to rush him, throw him to the wall, and slam my fists as hard as I could into his head until I heard the bones break," he paused, "Only after my stepfather's skull was dented did I turn around to see who'd helped me."_

_"Peter," Tink said, eyes widening. No wonder Felix's loyalty to Pan was so absolute. Pan had come to Felix's aid in his darkest, most vulnerable moment. Without knowing anything about him- for if Peter was searching for him as a particular Lost Boy, Felix would have heard his pipes, and he clearly hadn't -Peter had decided to help him. It was a rather selfless act on Pan's part, and one Tink wouldn't have expected from him. _

_"Peter," Felix confirmed, "He saved my life." _

_"I'm so sorry," Tink whispered. Instinctively, she reached for his hand. He flicked his eyes down to their clasped palms, then back at her. Unwittingly, she blushed. Without even one acknowledgment of what she'd done, he took his hand back and walked away into the trees. leaving her rejected and confused in camp. _

_It took Felix a few days after that, but in sharing his past, it seemed as though Felix grew comfortable with her. He became a participant in their conversations, and eventually, she got him to laugh- and often. Tink found herself blushing in his presence, but unlike before, he didn't seem taken aback by it. He smirked at her instead, and that only made her blush harder. _

_One night, she'd stolen his cloak and run into the forest. Without her wings, she had no speed, and she knew Felix would catch up to her easily. While she had flown for years and years, using wings to propel her along, he'd only had his feet to carry him swiftly on the forest floor. Her legs, in comparison to his, were not nearly as strong. _

_"You can't run from me, Tinkerbell," he'd drawled, a twinkle in his eyes. The fairy , as was becoming increasingly common when she was around him, blushed: _

_"You're right." She didn't really want to run from Felix, anyway. While Peter prided himself on the ingenuity of his games, this had been Tink's game; her method of getting Felix and her out of Pan's sight. _

_As she returned Felix's cloak to him, their hands touched. This time, he didn't let go. Instead, he stepped slowly towards her, and she to him. Hesitantly, she stood up on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his. _

_She almost felt like her wings had returned when he kissed her back._

* * *

><p>When neither Felix or Tink answered her, Wendy shuddered. She had to dissuade the tension somehow, and so she did the only thing she could think of- slammed her locker door and walked away. The crash of the metal jolted Tink and Felix out of their glaring contest, and the fairy hurried to Wendy's side, determined not to look the Lost Boy in the eye again. Felix leisurely strolled after them, completely silent this time- though Tink could feel his gaze burning on her back like the fires they'd innocently talked by so long ago.<p>

As they rounded a corner, a familiar, panting figure collided with Wendy's. Wendy was going to reprimand him at first, but when she recognized him, she threw her arms around him:

"Tootles! You're all right!" It seemed like forever since Pan had first made his appearance to them in the halls of the school, and they'd run for their lives. Wendy had been certain Tootles was dead, and she'd wanted to check- she'd really meant to -but when Pan had actually involved himself in her day to day life, even lurking in her bedroom, she'd been distracted.

Nevertheless, she was more grateful than she'd ever been to see Tootles breathing. Silently, she whispered a thousand prayers of thanks that he was standing in front of her. She'd feared the worst.

"Wendy!" Tootles smiled as he returned her hug just as strongly. He flinched a bit at Felix's disapproving look, but then decided to ignore the taller boy and instead focus on the girl who had been Mother to him.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Wendy said, her eyes shining, "How did you-"

"Survive?" he finished her sentence, his happy grin fading. The word was dire, and anyone who looked at the teenagers standing in the hallway would have been stunned to realize they were discussing, not homework, but rather life, death, and murder as though they were a daily occurrence. The group wasn't horrified, exactly, just resigned to it.

At Tootles' grim pronouncement, Wendy's smile faded as well. Slowly, she released him from her embrace, unable to answer him.

Seeing her reaction, Tootles said, "Wendy, you really don't know?" His eyes were wide with disbelief. Gently, he reached for her again, but she stepped just out of his range and inquired:

"Know what?"

Tootles, a bit taken aback, said, "Wendy, he didn't go after me." He looked at her as if she was missing something very obvious.

"What do you mean?" she inquired, heart pounding. She knew what he was going to say, but she still didn't want him to say it. Now, her prayers of thanks morphed quickly into prayers of supplication- _please don't let it have been a game, please don't let it have been a game just to hunt me, please don't let the Boys have died so Peter could try to entrap me..._ Morbidly, her mind wandered to chess, a game that John had loved and taught her to play: _Please don't let the Boys have been pawns who died so the king could trap the queen... _

"When I ran," Tootles swallowed, "His footsteps faded away. Wendy, he didn't follow me. _He followed you_." He stared at her for a long moment, both with genuine concern and as if he was asking for forgiveness. Then Wendy understood why- she hadn't just not seen Tootles because she was so anxious about Peter and his doings. She also hadn't seen Tootles because he'd had been avoiding her, hoping that she would realize what had happened without him having to tell her.

"But he didn't kill me," Wendy said, the weight of Tootles' words sinking in, "He could have easily killed me. Isn't that what he wanted? Revenge? But he didn't kill me. Why would he- why did he- _Felix_-" She spun around to face the tall, impassive Lost Boy. As she sputtered in confusion, Felix replied:

"I don't know, Wendy. I was in jail. I don't know his plan-" he crossed his arms.

"I don't believe that for a minute," Tink interjected, her voice the angry one now.

"I'm telling you, I don't know his plan," Felix said, ignoring Tink's outburst, "but I do know Peter Pan never fails. He _will_ win. And if you're alive, it's because he wants you to be."

* * *

><p><em>For weeks after Hook had tried to ransom her, Wendy had pondered the pirate's advice: "Leave Neverland while you still can." Some parts of Neverland were truly wonderful, just as some parts of Peter were truly wonderful. But some were dark and harsh, just as some parts of Peter were dark and harsh. She couldn't help but wonder if it was the island that nurtured this darkness in him. Perhaps if she could get him away from it, the lightness in him could be fostered. <em>

_Perhaps he could take her to a real ball. _

_Perhaps they could be Mother and Father for real. _

_Perhaps she could convince him that taking them all back to London was the best thing to do. _

_So it was that Wendy followed Peter to a massive tree that grew on the northern shore of Neverland. She'd noticed he went there to be alone, though these occasions were rare- and she had been waiting to get him alone for some time. Wendy knew that she had no prayer of success if she asked him to go home in front of the Lost Boys, but if she could persuade him while alone, and he agreed, he'd put on a show for the boys and they would all consent to what Peter would portray as a magnificent idea- his own, of course. Wendy was fine with that. She just wanted to go home- with him. Her heart skipped a beat as she spotted him- despite all she'd seen of what he was capable of, she couldn't seem to get it to stop doing that. _

_Peter sat, his back leaning against the tree. He seemingly watched the Jolly Roger loll gently in the night waves, but he was well-aware of Wendy's presence. Even if he had not been attuned to everything on the island, her rapid breathing would have given her away. _

_"Bird, you can come out now," he said neutrally. He'd realized that Wendy had been shocked by his...treatment...of Hook's crew for their kidnapping her. But what Wendy didn't understand was that the pirates had almost **killed** her. If he hadn't heard her- if they'd gagged her, and he'd let the storm go on...Peter grit his teeth. _

_They deserved worse than what Peter gave them, really, though he supposed he could have taken more care and managed their deaths later, out of Wendy's view. Maybe then she wouldn't be tiptoeing around him, as she had for days, as if she expected him to lash out and slaughter anything that struck his fancy. As if she expected him to lash out at __**her**__. _

_Peter didn't like that Wendy was afraid of him. He'd tried to give her some space when he understood the problem, though now he was tired of it. He wanted her to laugh at his jokes again, to follow him up into the clouds and dance. He wanted her to look at him with wonder and that mysterious emotion he couldn't name. Not fear. So he was hoping that tonight, they could put her worries to rest and go back to normal. _

_Wendy made her way out of the forest, then stood before him, hands clasped. It was terribly formal, and it made Peter's skin crawl with the sense that something wasn't right. He gestured for her to sit beside him, but she merely shook her head. _

_"Peter-" Wendy gulped, unable to voice the words she had been practicing for hours in her treehouse. Now that the moment had come, now that she was staring into his puzzled, yet alluring, eyes, she was terrified of the outcome. What if this was a mistake? What if she couldn't take it back? What if-_

_"What?" Peter inquired, sensing her reluctance. He studied her, and noticed her constant fidgeting. She was having trouble meeting his gaze, but when she did, her own eyes were filled with guilt. _

_Suddenly, Peter knew what she was about to ask, and he opened his mouth to deny it. Before he could, the words poured out of her: _

_"Peter, I think I should go home. I think __**we**__ should go home. You, me, the boys-" They followed one after the other, like a waterfall that could not be stopped. _

_"Wendy," Peter replied evenly,"Neverland is your home." _

_"No, Peter, it's not," Wendy insisted, "London's my home, and I know it's some of the boys' homes, and it could be yours, if you wanted." She swallowed uncomfortably, worried that she might have revealed too much with her quiet request- how much she wanted London to be their home. _

_Immediately, Peter retorted, "I do not want it! Neverland is my home!" He jumped to his feet, and strode so close to her she could feel his breath on her cheeks. He towered over her, and Wendy couldn't bring herself to move away. He cupped her chin in his hand and repeated:_

_"Neverland is your home." He stared at her harshly, as if the strength of his stare and the repetition of his words could make the statement true. But it wasn't. Wendy knew that with every fiber of her being, and so she said: _

_"Peter, I want to go home. My real home. Neverland's amazing, but-"_

_"But what?" Peter demanded, releasing her from his grip, "What's wrong with Neverland?" _

_"It's-" Wendy paused, choosing her words carefully, "It's missing something. It's just...incomplete-"_

_"Incomplete?" Peter practically snarled, "Neverland's **incomplete**? Wendy, the island is a part of me. Are you saying I'm lacking something? That I'm incomplete? That **I'm** deficient?" He was rapidly growing angrier and angrier. Neverland was constructed purely by the strength of his considerable imagination. The land had been born for him, and grown by him, and flourished under his rule. Their existences, his and the island's, were now permanently entwined. He felt every step upon its soil as the land reflected his every emotion. For Wendy to call Neverland incomplete was for her to call him incomplete- and both of them knew it. _

_Desperately, Wendy insisted, "No, Peter! Neverland is wonderful- and you're wonderful- but I just- I see the man you could be, and I-" This had gone wrong. So horribly, horribly wrong. Peter was supposed to carefully consider her petition to return to London, and she would explain to him why it would occur. He was supposed to turn to her and say that of course they would go, if she wished it, that of course they would be together, if she wished it- _

_"You, what, Wendy?" Peter sneered, "You want me to be a man?" He made it sound as if the concept was utterly impossible, and she was an idiot for wishing for such a thing. _

_Embarrassed, and forcing tears back, Wendy replied, "Yes! I do! I want you to meet my mother and father! I want you to take me to my first ball! I want-" _

_"'I want, I want, I want,'" Peter mocked her. Then he paused, eyes widening, "Oh, I see. You have __**feelings**__ for me!" He snickered. _

_"Peter," Wendy begged, "Please. I know you care for me-" She knew it in her soul. He didn't have to be so mean about it. Perhaps she should have realized that he would be reluctant to leave Neverland; that he would be afraid to leave everything he'd ever known and go to London and acknowledge such a grown-up thing as love. However, she decided to appeal to his heart anyway, feeling it was the only card she had left. _

_Pan laughed cruelly, "I do not care about you. It was just a game, Wendy, and if you're so unhappy in Neverland, then it's time for the game to be over." He moved his hand subtly in the darkness, and his Shadow rushed towards Wendy. She shrieked as it trapped her in its arms, its grip tighter than a mermaid dragging its prey to the ocean depths._

_"What are you doing!?" Wendy asked, struggling against her captor- both the Shadow and its associated commander. She was frantic, helpless prey caught in a trap she had never imagined existed._

_Peter smiled at her then, but there was nothing pleasant in his smile, "I'm granting your request. I'm sending you home, Bird." _

_"No!" Wendy protested, "Not like this! Peter, not like this! I want the Boys to come with me; I want you-"_

_"Well, Wendy, I don't want you," he said, voice filled with contempt._

_"That's a lie!" she retorted immediately._

_"Is it?" Peter cocked his head at her. His smirk was so perfect that for a dreadful instant, she started to doubt herself. Still, she maintained: _

_"Yes, it is!" Wendy struggled against the Shadow's grip, "You saved me from pirates! You killed them because you were worried about me! You danced with me! You care about me-"_

_"It was a game," Peter enunciated each word carefully, "a new game that started when you came to Neverland. You were Mother, and I was Father, and I'm so** good** at playing games. It seems I played too well." He approached his Shadow and stared at the girl in its arms._

_Wendy's heart started to pound even as it broke, "No, Peter. No. It was real; I know it was-"_

_"It was just a game," Peter repeated, "and now it's over. Goodbye, Wendy." He nodded to his Shadow, it began to rise. A despairing Wendy, even now fighting against it, cried out: _

_"Peter, you don't really want me gone-"_

_"But I do," he answered earnestly, then explained, "No one leaves this island unless I want them to. You'll be gone because I __**want you to be**__, Wendy." _

_"I don't believe you," Wendy said, tears slipping down her cheeks. He was lying. She knew it, and she suspected he did too. If he did, though, he gave no hint of it when he answered her with a casual shrug: _

_"That's your mistake." _

_Wendy closed her eyes, unwilling to look at him anymore. Perversely, she hid her head in Peter's Shadow's shoulder to muffle her sobs. She didn't want him to see how distraught she was. She continued to cry as the Shadow took her into the sky, faster and faster, racing through the rapidly gathering thunderstorm. _

_As he watched her disappear, Peter's smirk slipped away. He shook slightly, then sunk to the ground, his eyes filled with an eerie light as they fixated on the lightning-filled sky. _

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<br>_

_Angst. So much angst. I'm sorry, but this had to be here; we had to see how Wendy really left Neverland the first time (also I wrote 3 different versions of the final scene before I could decide on one I liked; which is also the reason why this chapter took so long). I can't promise utter fluff (it's Darling Pan, when is there ever fluff with them in character?) next chapter, but we should have less angst than this._

_Thank you for reading!  
><em>

_~ladykikyo1792_


	15. Chapter 15: I'm Learning All Your Tricks

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! A (belated) Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of my readers! You guys, as you know, are great. People with usernames should have gotten private messages. To Wendypan, thank you so much! I'm so happy you like it! And yes, Felix does have a tragic back story, but he needed a reason for his fierce devotion to Peter. We will see more about that in the future. :)_

_Finally, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!_

_~ladykikyo1792_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: I'm Learning All Your Tricks, I Can Hurt You From Inside <strong>

It was midnight, and Peter Pan walked the streets of Storybrooke, as he had every night since he'd made his contract with the Evil Queen and the Savior. True to his word, he roamed it as if it were his kingdom, though he harmed no one- and true to their word, they stayed inside their homes anyway. What they all failed to realize was that he was moving around the town to memorize it. He wished to examine every stone so closely that he knew the town layout almost as well as Neverland. If he was to succeed in his plan, he needed to understand all he could about this mysterious Land Without Magic. Peter thought it a rather pitiful place since it lacked magic, though some residents seemed happy enough.

But not all residents were, and it was these residents he was particularly interested in. Peter knew who some would be, of course- Slightly and Felix definitely, and most likely Nibs. However, he didn't know_ all_ of them, though he was looking forward to it. Carefully, he lifted his pipes to his lips. An eerie tune softly drifted throughout the town, though only a select few could hear its notes. He observed three boys in the houses he passed just now pull their curtains aside in confusion. They didn't climb out of the window, as they once would have- all the windows were locked and bolted tonight. But they looked around, puzzled, until they spotted him. He smiled and waved at them, and he could practically see the thoughts in their minds:

_Peter Pan! This is the one everyone's afraid of! But he doesn't look dangerous. He looks...nice. _

Then their faces morphed into a perplexed curiosity. Peter's smile grew wider as he continued to play. When he waved again, two of the three boys he'd spotted waved back. He knew then that if he could only speak to them, they would be his. Still, he sensed that flying to their windows now wouldn't help his cause. He had to talk to them in a setting more natural for them, a setting where he looked like an ordinary boy who could be their friend.

And he knew exactly where.

* * *

><p>Wendy stood at her window, frozen in place by the haunting song that used to play only in her dreams. Part of her hated that she heard it. It meant that she felt lost, lonely, and unloved- all things she shouldn't feel. She was in Storybrooke, reunited with her brothers at last. Why should she feel this way, when she had everything she'd ever wanted?<p>

Despite the fact she had those things, Wendy could hear Pan's pipes. Frustrated, she put her fingers in her ears, but that didn't help. She opened the window, where Felix, commanded as ever to guard her, stood as a sentinel on her porch. He was smiling- but then again, he would smile to hear the song. For him, it wasn't a song of loneliness or despair. It was a song signifying the return of his greatest leader, and a sign that he would have new friends soon.

At the screech of the window, he turned to look up at her and murmured, "Wendy, go to bed." He gave the order distractedly, and she knew his focus was more on the song than her.

"I can't," Wendy said through gritted teeth, "It won't stop. I can't stop hearing-" abruptly, she cut herself off. She was unwilling to admit this weakness to him, but Felix could guess what had happened anyway. The color had drained from her face, and she looked stricken.

Felix chuckled to himself as he realized her predicament, "So Wendy Darling can hear the song of the Lost Ones!" It was something that had never happened to her before. Even in Neverland, she had been secure in the love of her brothers. She knew they loved her, and while she might have felt lonely on occasion, she had never felt lost. She had been exactly where Pan had wanted her, and exactly where her brothers hoped to retrieve her. She'd had a place, even if she did not much like it. As such, she'd never heard Pan's pipes.

"Shut _up_, Felix!" Wendy snarled. The last thing she needed was his mockery.

The Lost Boy laughed at her rage, "What, Wendy? You think me not saying it will stop it? Once you hear the song, _nothing makes it stop_-"

"Henry doesn't hear it anymore!" Wendy insisted. She had no idea whether this was true or not, but she thought it must be. He was home in Storybrooke- thus he was no longer lost -and with his family and friends -and thus he was no longer lonely or unloved.

"Have you asked him?" Felix inquired, but Wendy didn't reply. He was betting she hadn't- Wendy had spent the majority of her time since they returned from Neverland pretending the whole thing never happened. As such, while she'd say hello to Henry, she never talked to him in depth, let alone about Neverland.

At Wendy's silence, Felix smiled. He had been right. Satisfied, he continued, "If you've been to Neverland, and you hear those pipes, the song never stops. If you haven't been to Neverland, and suddenly you don't feel lost, lonely, and unloved, maybe it does," he shrugged, "I don't know. But once you've been on Neverland's shores- if you hear it, it doesn't stop." He grinned at her, somewhat perversely pleased by her unease.

Wendy said nothing for what seemed like ages. She merely stared at the Lost Boy, anger blazing like a raging fire, but beneath it, resignation. Felix merely gazed up at her, unsure why this was such a shock to her. Had she really thought she would never hear the pipes? All Neverlanders did, eventually. Pan's music matched the emotions within their hearts, tying them to him and to the island forever.

"Come on, Wendy," Tinkerbell appeared next to Wendy at the window. Clad in a blue pajama set, her golden hair loose around her shoulders, she looked far less haughty- and hunted -than usual. Gently, she put her arms around the girl, then guided her out of Felix's view- presumably back to her bed. She returned to the window a few seconds later, her green eyes meeting Felix's stormy gray for a long moment.

Felix queried, "Are you going to ask me to tell Pan to stop?" It was what he expected her to do. Although Tinkerbell was conscious of Pan's power, she also was conscious of how close she'd once been to Felix. Most people wouldn't balk at requesting a favor from a former lover, and Tink was never one to hold back.

"No," she replied immediately, her voice clear and distinct in the night air. Her answer came swiftly, quickly and without consideration of any other option.

Surprised, Felix asked, "Why not?"

Tink explained, "Because I couldn't ask Pan for anything. I'm not fool enough to think you can ask him either."

With that, she shut the window, leaving the usually unflappable Lost Boy utterly unnerved.

* * *

><p>The next few days passed in a blur. Felix guarded Wendy every second from the moment she left her house to when she returned to it. Wendy didn't see Peter, though she knew, just <em>knew<em>, he was around. She'd awake in the middle of the night to find her bedroom window open, a cool wind on her face. Her covers would be mussed, and she swore she heard footsteps, though her room was always empty. Then, of course, there was the music from his pipes.

Nevertheless, Wendy did not have nightmares, and that knowledge made her gut twist. She told herself she didn't have nightmares anymore because the central feature of her nightmares was physically walking around. The alternative for what exactly was keeping her nightmares at bay was too confusing, and too unnerving, to contemplate.

Meanwhile, the other inhabitants of Storybrooke were at first braced for war, going about their daily lives with trepidation. Yet when the blow didn't come, they began to relax a little. Most forgot about Peter's presence, or at least didn't think of him until curfew set in. And even then, when he didn't show himself, he remained in the back of their thoughts.

That was exactly what Peter wanted. Complacency in a game was a trait reserved for the loser.

And he never lost.

Content with his strategy for the game, Peter continued to spend his nights wandering around Storybrooke, playing his pipes and scouting the area. Sometimes Felix accompanied him. Often, though, he left his second at the house at the edge of town occupied by Wendy Darling and Tinkerbell, and prowled around the town alone.

So long as people didn't look out their windows, they wouldn't see the Shadow King creeping amongst them as he sought out the Lost souls of this world.

When Peter did finally show himself in the light of the day, it stunned the mayor. Regina, the former Evil Queen, was shell-shocked. Standing across from her longtime enemy, she said:

"Let me see if I understand this correctly," she crossed her arms, "You want to go to high school? Doesn't that go against everything you stand for?" Pan's entire quest for the Heart of the Truest Believer had been based off the desire to preserve his youth and immortality forever. Attending high school was one of the signs a child was growing older. It didn't correlate with anything she knew about Pan.

The eternal boy sitting in the chair before the principal's desk shrugged, "I stand for not growing up. To my knowledge, in this world, you're not grown up 'til you turn eighteen, which is after high school."

"Not always," Regina riposted instantly. She was suspicious of what Pan's motives were- for he invariably had them. Despite his face, he was no innocent.

"But mostly," Peter countered easily. He smiled at her, confident in what Felix had explained to him. There were twelve months in a year here, and of those, only those born in the first four and a half would be eighteen before they graduated high school. Peter kept the knowledge of his actual birthday to himself- but he had been born in the summer, and so even had he attended high school as a mortal boy, he wouldn't have reached that critical age of adulthood.

"How old are you, exactly?" Regina demanded. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering for the first time how ancient the being sitting across from her was. He looked harmless enough, but she knew from experience he wasn't. Similarly, he looked enough like an adolescent, but his own eyes gave away the calculating wisdom of someone who had lived far longer than anyone should. She had the discomfiting sensation he was older than her, and perhaps older than Rumplestiltskin. It made her skin crawl.

"Seventeen," Pan stated.

"You can't be seventeen," the mayor pressed. Each of them knew he was beyond seventeen- mentally he was beyond all humans who had ever existed.

"You forget in Neverland, time is frozen. I arrived at seventeen. I'm seventeen," Peter slightly adjusted his position, so he was no longer sitting respectfully in the chair. Instead, he was lounging in it as though it were a throne. Regina felt a flash of irritation at the sight, and she asserted:

"You're not a boy, then. You're a teenager."

Peter smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes, "I expected more of the Evil Queen than arguing semantics. In this world, I still count as a boy. And aren't there laws saying children have to be in school?" This was another tidbit Felix had mentioned to him.

"You're not exactly a minor."

He shrugged, and simply stared at her. An exasperated Regina began to pace around the room. As she reached the side of the room by the window, she approached the princess who had destroyed her life. Mary Margaret, the former Snow White, was present as the representative of Storybrooke's newly-formed School Department. She wasn't talking to Pan directly- that had been left as the prerogative of the mayor -but she was there to observe and comment.

"I don't think this is that bad of an idea, Regina," she whispered furtively, keeping her gaze on Pan.

"How is this not a bad idea?" Regina almost yelled at the woman, as stupid as an adult as she had been as a child. Letting a teenage serial killer into a _school_- the very school were one of his victims had been brutally murdered -hardly seemed ideal. Admittedly, the contract forbade him from killing- but she firmly believed Pan was capable of much more than death. His continued existence was a blatant demonstration of that.

"In the daytime, you said he promised Storybrooke was Emma's," Mary Margaret explained, "He'd have to follow the rules. Besides, wouldn't it be better to have him somewhere we can watch him? Keep your friends close, and enemies closer kind of thing?"

"You realize I can hear you," Peter said. He was smirking in his chair, and Regina wanted to slap him. He was far too insolent- and, though she refused to say it, too powerful -for her liking. She could not punish him, though she dreamed every night of the tortures she'd like to inflict on him for what he'd tried to do to Henry.

Ignoring the tension, Mary Margaret pressed, "What's worse? Peter Pan walking around Storybrooke, or Peter Pan confined to a building Monday to Friday where we can keep track of him?"

"It's always better to have your prey in sight," Peter noted. His eyes glittered with mirth. Regina bit her lip, running a hand through her hair. She had to think clearly, and she couldn't do that with Pan making snarky commentary. All it made her want to do was throw a fireball at him.

"Stay here," she commanded Mary Margaret, then left the flustered teacher with the devil boy. She closed the door to the principal's office, then walked down the hallway, determined to be out of the earshot of Pan. Her heels clacked on the linoleum, the sound as loud as fireworks in the quiet hallways. Retrieving her cell phone, she dialed Killian Jones.

"Your Majesty," the pirate answered immediately, "to what do I owe the honor?"

"Peter Pan wants to go to high school," Regina said without preamble. Typically, she would have berated him for his arrogance, but she didn't have time today.

There was a hesitation on the line, but then Hook hypothesized, "And you want to know if it's a good idea."

"You know him better than anyone."

Hook admitted, "Not quite true, but close enough. In either case, there are no good ideas with Pan. It's all bad, with various degrees of bad and worse."

Regina rolled her eyes and leaned against a locker, "I'm aware of that, but could you perhaps add a _little more_ of your expertise to the matter? Something helpful, perhaps."

The pirate considered the concept, then said carefully, "I think it would be better than letting him walk around town unaccompanied. He might run into Henry otherwise."

"What do you mean?"

"From what Swan told me, Pan can't kill anyone, kidnap Henry, or curse you. Doesn't block him from seeking Henry out on a daily basis. You can keep watch on Henry before or after school, but what about during it? You've got to run the town; Pan can easily move around unobstructed."

"So you're saying I should let Pan into high school to guarantee he's away from my son while my son's in school."

Hook clarified, "I'm saying that you only get the certainty of Henry being left alone during those times by letting Pan go to high school. Otherwise, Pan might go to Henry; he might not, but you can't be certain. You don't know what he'd do. And you can't force Henry to be with you all the time."

Regina sucked in a breath, "Thank you, Hook." She quickly pocketed the phone, then walked back into the office, head held high.

"Welcome to Storybrooke High," she practically spat out the words.

Pan smiled.

* * *

><p>It came as no surprise to Wendy that the first day Peter appeared at Storybrooke High School as a student, certain boys immediately gravitated to him. Peter Pan was enchanting when he wanted to be, but was always, always, planning and cunning. Still, he presented a figure of strength, confidence, and welcome to the boys who came to him.<p>

Some had been orphans in the Enchanted Forest. Some had severe conflict in their families. Some were simply the prodigal sons in the town.

In short, they were Lost, and Peter Pan, whatever his many faults, considered it his duty to save Lost Boys. They were pulled towards him like planets gravitating towards a newly formed star.

Pan basked in the attention, and he reveled in the companionship of new friends. In addition to regaining the Heart of the Truest Believer, here too was another noble cause for him in Storybrooke: saving boys who had been lost for too long.

Wendy watched as Peter held court in the lunch room. He sat at a table by the window, with Felix on his right. His left was occupied by a boy Wendy knew as Owen Dodge. Owen was a loner by nature, but the other kids avoided him regardless. He was one of the unfortunate sort who was automatically, unanimously, unconsciously chosen by the majority to be the designated school outcast. Despite her elevated social status- Wendy had been absorbed into the popular group of girls headed by Grace -Wendy had always felt pity for Owen, and when no one was looking, gave him a smile and kind word. Owen had never said much back- maybe he didn't trust her since she only talked to him when they were alone -but he seemed absolutely starstruck by Peter. He was constantly talking to Peter, and Peter gave him what appeared to be his undivided attention. To Owen, this singular, directed attention was more than he had ever received, and what he'd desired for years. He genuinely believed Pan was focused on him and him alone.

Wendy and Tink knew better. Peter was constantly observing _everything_. He absorbed and catalogued details around him with a precision no mortal could hope to match. After all, he'd had centuries to practice. Now, Peter was a predator adjusting to his new environment- he was surveying his surroundings, and the people within it.

Owen paused in whatever he was telling Peter to take a drink from his water bottle, and Peter used the opportunity to cast his gaze around the cafeteria. Upon his eyes meeting Wendy's, his lips spread in a feral grin. Chills ran up Wendy's spine, and it took her a few moments to break the stare. Rattled, she stabbed at her salad, the tomatoes bursting open in sprays of red juice. The bright color reminded Wendy of blood.

That sight, combined with the memory of Peter's smile of a few minutes before, was enough to make Wendy lose her appetite. She sighed, then picked up her plate and made her way over to the trash can. Tink didn't follow her since Wendy was in her direct line of sight. As Wendy deposited her plate in the bin, she heard a familiar voice behind her:

"Bird, you need to eat."

Of course he was here. _Of course_ he was. He'd take advantage of any opportunity to get her alone- even if she wasn't truly alone. Wendy turned around to face Peter, whose smile had since disappeared and been replaced by disapproval.

"I'm not hungry," Wendy replied.

"That's a lie."

"I'm not, Peter. I'm really not," she maintained.

"Wendy-bird, you need to eat. Birds can't fly if they don't eat."

At his words, Wendy flinched. He was deliberately bringing up a memory, and this time, it was a particularly painful one.

_No_, she thought, pushing the memory down, _I can't keep doing that. I can't keep sinking into memory. I have to live. I have to try._

Emboldened, Wendy stated, "I don't want to fly, Peter. I want to be normal. I want to go to school. I want to go shopping. I want to go to football games-" she was mentioning everything that she had ever thought of going to as Gwen in a desperate attempt to remind herself that she wasn't in Neverland. Even seemingly insignificant things, such as sports, counted, for these were things that never would have happened in Neverland, and these were the things that would keep her grounded in the real world.

"Football?" Peter sneered, "You'd rather see football than _fly_?" He crossed his arms, both incredulous at her assertion and completely contemptuous of it.

"Yes!" Wendy said, "It can be fun, being normal!" The words sounded weak, even to her own ears.

"I am _not_ normal!" Peter argued, the words coming out on a hiss. His eyes had narrowed into slits.

"I know!" Wendy shot back (God knew Peter was anything and everything but normal), "But you're having fun talking to ordinary boys right over there! Normal, ordinary boys, who do normal, ordinary things-" she gestured to the table of boys who waited for his return, eager as puppies. They were observing the exchange between Peter and Wendy with sheer fascination.

"They can be more," Peter waved his hand toward them carelessly.

"Right now, they are _normal_," Wendy said through gritted teeth, "and I want that. Freedom. A chance to start over." _A chance to forget you._

"Football," Peter rolled his eyes, "_Normal. Ordinary_. Wendy-bird, you aren't normal. You aren't ordinary. You, who live in a land of mermaids and fairies and pirates, would be bored." He said this as if he had merely told her the sky was blue, and Wendy was annoyed at his casual assumption about her.

"The fairies are dead, Peter; the pirates are in Storybrooke; and many of the mermaids left Neverland as well. I'm not bored by it. I won't be," she said confidently, then added brazenly, "and I bet you wouldn't be bored either, if you gave it a chance. It has everything you like in it- chase, fighting-" With this statement, she was only hoping to defend normalcy to Peter. She never expected him to acknowledge normalcy, or seek it out. Her mouth dropped open as he replied simply:

"Fine. There's one tonight, isn't there? Dodger mentioned it."

"His name is Owen," Wendy sputtered, too shocked Peter was even considering the football game to say anything else.

"I know a Lost Boy when I see one, and I name the Lost Boys. His name is Dodger. And if you're so desperate for me to go to a football game, Wendy, then I'll go. Let's see what kind of games they play here." Then he granted her another sinister grin before he strode back to his table.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Wendy and Tink sat next to each other in the football stands. Wendy wore a black pleated skirt, a maroon and white sweater (Storybrooke High's colors), and boots, while Tink wore jeans and a Storybrooke High sweatshirt. Since the town had decided to proceed as though everything was normal, that included sports activities. Wendy, both to hold onto the remnants of her sanity and to give what measure of protection to her friends she could by her presence, had decided it was worth it to attend the football game she'd taunted Peter with earlier. Tink, who went with her everywhere now, had joined her. Grace and Gretel waved to her from the field- both were cheerleaders -and Wendy gave a halfhearted wave back.<p>

"That was convincing," Tink snorted.

"You're not nervous?" Wendy retorted, quickly defensive.

"Of course I am," Tink replied, "but what's that going to do? You challenged him to go, and you know Peter never says no to a challenge. He'll be here, no matter what."

Wendy sighed. Tink had a point. She had provoked Peter at lunch. She'd been dead set on reminding herself that she was in Storybrooke, not Neverland, and had let words spill out of her without considering the consequences. Then, she'd found herself strangely fearless, as if by mentioning little things about Storybrooke, she could cocoon herself among them as a form of protection- for Peter did not acknowledge small things, let alone the ordinary.

But stupidly, she'd forgotten he never backed down from a challenge. And now Peter Pan was going to a football game. She'd made her entire school targets to Peter Pan's wrath, instead of just her and Tink. And she had no one to blame but herself.

"Hello, Bird."

Wendy forced herself not to shudder as she heard his voice. She turned to greet him, fighting with everything she had to be neutral; to hide her fear.

Still, it was hard, especially as he stood there, smirking and self-assured. As usual, he wore his outfit of stitched leaves- she supposed that would never change -though even Felix, who stood loyally next to him, had conceded to wearing Storybrooke High colors. He'd traded his typical brown sweatshirt for one of maroon and white- almost identical to Tink's.

It would have been cute had Wendy not known who they really were.

"Peter," Wendy stated, a bit unnecessarily, "You're here."

Peter raised an eyebrow, "Of course. You said this was game would be interesting. I wanted to see for myself."

"And he's here because?" Tink asked, gesturing toward Felix. His presence blatantly made the fairy uncomfortable.

Pan gave her an angelic smile, "Felix is my best friend. Besides, he's a student here too."

Wendy examined Pan's and Tink's faces. Tink glared at Peter with unabashed hatred, still furious with Peter for his mistreatment of her. Pan continued to smile innocently, but his own eyes were dark. Felix noticed none of the exchange, because he was so stunned- and apparently, pleased, judging by his broad smile -at Pan openly naming him as his best friend.

Wendy wondered if Felix knew what Peter had done to separate him and Tink. If Felix did, would he still be so happy to be called Peter Pan's best friend?

She wasn't so sure.

Before she could ask, Peter sat next to her. Although Felix moved to sit on Peter's other side, he was stopped by Pan shaking his head. Peter gestured towards Tink, and puzzled, but obedient as ever, Felix moved to sit next to the fairy. Pan was playing with them, and Felix didn't even know it. Tink, though, was more than aware of Pan's machinations, and her cheeks flushed red with anger. Wendy went to reprimand Peter, but the words died on her lips. She knew it would do more harm than good.

"So, Wendy," Peter said casually, "How do you play this game?" The made it sound as if he were genuinely curious, but Wendy doubted his sincerity. He was trying to make her as uncomfortable as possible by pretending this was normal- and much to her consternation, he was succeeding.

Wendy swallowed, "There are four quarters. Each team tries to get the ball, and they get a chance to kick it, and run with it towards those big posts at the end of the field-"

Peter's brow furrowed in confusion (though Wendy suspected it was feigned), "Where does chase come in? You said there was chase, and fighting." He looked her directly in the eyes, and she was torn between staring at his own ethereal orbs or focusing on what he actually was. Heart pounding, she shook her head, attempting to break the connection.

"One team goes after the other, because they don't want that team to reach the posts with the ball. They can stop the team that's running with the ball however they want," Wendy recited the words robotically, still struggling not to be pulled in by him, "They can run into them, or tackle them, try to pin them to the ground-" Desperately, she tried to ignore that Peter was beside her- that in fact, if she wasn't mistaken, he was inching closer to her with her every word.

For a second, she allowed herself to wonder what it might have been like if they had been in the Enchanted Forest when the curse had occurred- if Peter, Wendy, Felix, and Tinkerbell had been caught up in the Evil Queen's original curse. If they didn't know who they were, or the horrible events that bound them all together.

Wendy might really have been Gwen Carissima, sitting between her handsome, charismatic boyfriend and her best friend. Tinkerbell might be flushing not with anger at Pan, but in annoyance over a silly fight with Felix. The Lost Boy might be suppressing a smile, not over being acknowledged as Pan's best friend, but over Tink's antics. And Peter might have been the man she'd once imagined him capable of being- a leader, surely, admirable, definitely, but also kind and generous, without a malicious, sadistic bone in his body.

_If only._

Wendy sighed and shivered in the crisp, cold fall air. Peter noticed instantly. One of his arms slid easily around her, bringing her close to his body.

She hated herself when, honed over years of habit, her body automatically relaxed in his warmth. She hated herself even more when she realized that, as he'd predicted, she was horribly, incredibly, entirely bored with the game. The quarters seemed to drag on forever, while the cheerleaders' cries seemed silly and ridiculous. The dwarves barely moved the ball down the field with each play, and though they were not as short as they had been in the Enchanted Forest, they still had a small stature here. It made it hard to see them do anything on the field.

Surreptitiously, Wendy shifted in Peter's arms, trying to sneak a glance at her watch. As always, he caught her every gesture. He laughed softly:

"Bored, Bird?"

"No," Wendy retorted, "I just- I wanted to see how much time was left until half-time."

"What happens at half-time?" Peter queried. She could hear the amusement in his tone, though he was pretending to be sincerely inquisitive. He knew she was lying, and he found it incredibly amusing.

"Grace and Gretel- my friends -they said the cheerleaders are doing some kind of dance," Wendy had stopped paying attention to the girls' lunchtime conversation halfway through (she'd been too absorbed in watching Peter), but she clung to the very first thing they'd mentioned. It was her excuse, however implausible.

Tink begged, "_Please_ tell me we can leave before that. Please, Wendy." They were her first words since the game had started, and while she made them sound sarcastic, Wendy was all-too aware that Tink was agitated and uncomfortable around Felix. Wendy shot her an apologetic glance. Under any other circumstances she would leave, but Peter was here, and now she had to prove a point: not everything normal was bad or mundane.

Even if this particular instance was terribly dull.

"I want to stay until the end," Wendy said, silently promising that she would make it up to Tinkerbell later. The fairy groaned, then hugged herself. Wendy couldn't figure out if she did it because she was cold, miserable, or both. Apparently, neither could Felix, because every so often he shot Tink a puzzled glance. A few seconds later, though, Peter would smile at him, and the Lost Boy became distracted again.

Eventually, Wendy became so guilty she couldn't bring herself to look at them anymore. Refusing to meet Peter's gaze, she kept her own fixed on the dwarf players. Perhaps if she tried to focus on the game a little more- however excruciatingly boring it was -she could stop focusing on him. Or so she told herself for the next twenty minutes.

It felt like ages had passed, but finally, the team jogged off the field. Half-time had arrived at last. Wendy turned to Tink, intent on whispering an apology.

Suddenly, the lights on the field died. Everything went black.

"...is this supposed to happen?" Peter inquired, his tone deadly.

"No," Felix answered. Wendy flinched as she heard the shriek of metal- the Lost Boy had drawn his switchblade. Pan released her a few seconds later, and she reached for Tink's hand as she heard Pan withdraw his own dagger. They were wary, and that part alone scared Wendy more than anything else- because if they were wary, they hadn't planned this.

However, the lights came back on as fast as they'd switched off. They illuminated the lone object on the field: a body. Immediately, most of the crowd started to scream. Peter let loose a delighted laugh. Tink grabbed Wendy's arm, and Wendy covered her mouth with her other hand, blinking back tears as she recognized the body: Tootles.

"Peter," she said, practically sick, "What did you _do_?"

"Wendy," Peter replied, quite seriously, "I didn't do anything. I was sitting next to you the whole time, watching this 'game.' Though you're right, Wendy. It isn't boring. It_ does_ have everything I like."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: I hope you all liked the chapter! Please let me know what you think! And I know Peter Pan in high school seems a little odd- but it's important for future plot points. As always, Peter has a plan. ;)<em>

_~ladykikyo1792_


	16. Cha16: If you even try to look

Author's Note:

Happy New Year everyone! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing the previous chapter! You should all have gotten messages; if you didn't, my apologies; I've been running around like a crazy person. Message me and I shall properly tell you how awesome you are. :) To Lil, thank you very much! I do hope you enjoyed your Christmas presents, and I do like Rose a little bit better myself.

To everyone else, I hope you enjoy the chapter (shoutout to Hildebrant for the chapter title)! Thank you so much again for reading and supporting this story!

~ladykikyo1792

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: If you even try to look the other way, I think that I could kill this time<strong>

"Hello, Laddie."

Rumplestiltskin didn't turn around to acknowledge the very unwelcome guest in his shop. Instead, he said:

"The sign says we're closed. As I'm sure you read." Calmly, he continued to polish the bronze lamp in his hands. He'd learned over the years that, as with most predators, it was better to mask any fear when around Peter Pan.

"And I'm sure you know that I've been waiting to say hello alone. Unless, of course, you'd like your lovely wife to be involved."

At those words, sharp as a razor blade, the Dark One let the piece fall to the floor with a clatter and spun to stand behind his counter. Pan leaned against a shelf by the door to the shop, arms crossed. His eyes glittered with cruel amusement.

"I know this isn't a social call, dearie," the Dark One said, "so what is it, exactly, that you want?" He was attempting to sound lighthearted and carefree, but the reality was he anything but. Rumplestiltskin feared nothing- not while he had his dagger, anyway -save the being standing before him. He had faced him before- twice. The first time, Rumplestiltskin hadn't won, but Pan had concluded the game early by granting him freedom. The second time, when he had last ventured to Neverland, he'd lost. He had no desire to do business with his old enemy again.

Pan's gaze narrowed, "I'm not anyone's dearie, and you'd do well to remember that,_ Laddie_," he placed extra emphasis on the last word.

Rumplestiltskin flinched, as if he had been struck by a whip, "What do you want?" The infernal boy had no reason to be in his shop unless he desired something- and if he was threatening Belle, he had to want it very badly. Or so Rumple told himself, clinging to what he'd remembered of Pan: unless one played his games, Pan left you alone. Belle had never been a player, and so she was safe.

_But I played_, Rumple thought with a shudder.

Peter strode towards the counter. Bending over the yellow glass, he smirked:

"I want to make a deal."

"I don't make deals with the likes of you," the Dark One replied instantly. It was perhaps the only time in his life he'd ever outright refused a deal. Deals gave him power, and power gave him safety and control. However, Peter Pan was just as old and clever as Rumple, and Rumplestiltskin suspected that Pan could spin a deal designed to give the Dark One authority to benefit himself.

"I think you should. I have excellent terms for you," the boy said. His voice was earnest, and he sounded innocent enough. Yet his eyes were dark and calculating. Wary, and unable to fathom what lay behind Pan's gaze, Rumplestiltskin didn't answer.

As the silence dragged on, Pan smiled, then said:

"You know that I'm here for the Heart of the Truest Believer. Although my life is no longer in danger, Neverland still requires the magic from the heart in order to heal. You lot did some...damage to it," he paused, mouth twisting in dislike and determination, "I will get the heart no matter what, but it will be far easier for me- and much better for you -if you don't stand in my way."

"Why shouldn't I? I've finally got Bae's forgiveness. I won't risk losing that by letting you kill Henry," the Dark One retaliated. All he had ever wanted was Bae, and now that Bae was finally back in his life, and willing to at least speak with him, he wouldn't trade it for any possibility with the demon boy in his shop.

"You and I both know, Laddie, that you're always out for yourself, and for power," Pan replied, shrugging, "I don't judge you for it. You've made something of yourself- one of the few who's actually become better as a grown-up than as a child," he smiled again, then almost whispered, "and I think you will keep going after power. In fact, _I'm sure of it_." He stared at Rumplestiltskin, daring him to say otherwise, though both of them knew he couldn't. Power had always been Rumplestiltskin's weakness, because he saw it as a way to safety: the most precious thing any coward could acquire. For the Dark One, who had maimed himself to escape military service, nothing was too outlandish for him to escape danger. And Pan was one of the very few who actually presented realistic danger to him.

Peter grinned, pleased at being considered a worthy opponent, "So this is what I offer: let me have the heart. I take it, and my followers, back to Neverland and save the island. You, meanwhile, can go back to the Enchanted Forest with Belle and Bae; rule the entire land as you see fit," Pan breathed, "Consider it, Laddie. You will be the most powerful being in that realm, and you can start over with your son."

"And Henry?" the Dark One inquired.

"You know what will happen when I take his heart."

"But Bae-"

"What you need to do, Laddie, is think of yourself. If I take the heart, Henry won't be a problem anymore. With him dead, you'll never have to worry about that nasty little prophecy. And if Baelfire sees you try _so hard_ to save him from me- but regrettably fail, of course -he won't blame you," Pan pointed out, "After all, I'd be the one that killed him. You and I could put on quite the show for Bae; he'd never know you helped in your grandson's demise."

"How can you promise that?" Rumplestiltskin demanded. Although he hated to admit it, Pan's proposition was tempting. He would be incredibly powerful, and Belle and Bae would be with him. They'd all be safe, forever. It was like a dream- to go home to the Enchanted Forest, rule the land, have those he loved by his side. To never have to worry about losing his power to a child. But that same child meant so much to Bae...he grimaced.

Peter, recognizing Rumple's dilemma, reminded him, "I defied death. I cross realms- you know I do. You think I can't open the way for you and yours? All it takes is me- and a bit of pixie dust, of course," he amended. It was critical for Rumple to believe him. He _had_ to. While it was true he could still win if Rumple tried to fight him, it would make things infinitely...messier. And he knew Wendy didn't like things to be messy.

"What do you say, Laddie?" Pan asked, hoping to get an answer now, though he knew he most likely wouldn't. Just as he'd predicted, Rumplestiltskin replied:

"I'll need time to think about it."

"You always did," Pan winked, "Let me know what you decide. You have a week." He walked towards the door to the shop. He kicked it open, the bell chiming over his head. Peter was halfway out the door, but abruptly, he paused:

"Before I go, let me remind you what you've got here: a limp, a pawn shop, a son who still has trouble looking at you, and a potential threat to your life. How the Dark One has fallen! But you can rise again. If you stay out of my way."

Then he was gone, the door slamming shut after him.

* * *

><p>Pan entered the foyer of Regina's old house- his new base. Immediately, boys ran to him, calling enthusiastic greetings to him. He grinned, acknowledging each of them- including the new ones -by name. Still, ever alert to his surroundings, he noticed two familiar faces lurking in the shadows by the stairs. Pan nodded to them, then indicated that they should enter what had been Regina's office. Apprehensively, the boys did so.<p>

As soon as the doors had closed behind them, Pan began without preamble:

"Slightly. Nibs. Is there anything you would like to share?" The teenager could guess what they were going to tell him. In fact, he'd known it for nearly a day, but it was important for the boys to admit it themselves. It was the last sign he needed to know they were absolutely loyal to him. This kind of honesty would ensure they could never revert to the side of Storybrooke's residents, because what they were about to say could get them locked up for life.

"Peter-" Slightly bit his lip, "First, before anything, I want you to know that I told Nibs. About your offer."

This had been obvious to Peter, and precisely what he'd intended Slightly to do, but he didn't let on:

"I didn't extend that invitation to Nibs, Slightly," he noted, playing with the dagger at his belt, "nor did I command you to." Although Pan had wanted Slightly to persuade Nibs to return to the fold, he still needed to emphasize the importance of obeying him. He wouldn't allow for rebellion any longer- last time, he'd almost died because of it.

"I know, Peter," Slightly replied, wringing his hands in his shirt, "but I know you want those of us who are loyal to you, and you gave me, an old friend, a chance to prove myself. You've known Nibs almost as long...and I thought you'd give him that chance to." He looked up at his leader hopefully, praying he wasn't wrong. He didn't think he was- the Peter he had known and bonded with so long ago valued friendship above all else. He valued it so much he came back to this world to save friends who'd fallen on hard times, Slightly included. Whatever had happened, however much Peter had changed, Slightly felt, deep in his bones, that this integral part of Peter yet remained.

Pan said nothing for a long moment, then asked, "And what, exactly, did you two do?" He looked from one boy to the other, curious which would reveal it first.

Nibs took a deep breath, "We killed Tootles." He closed his eyes, obviously trying to block out the shocked face of their friend as he'd drawn his knife.

* * *

><p><em>"What are you doing?" Tootles' eyes were bright with fear. Nibs said nothing, heart pounding. Instead, he approached Tootles slowly, struggling to keep his hand from trembling. "Tootles-" he began, but the words died in his throat. Slightly appeared from the darkness beneath the bleachers, thin wire suspended between his hands. Tootles, noticing where Nibs was looking, spun around to see Slightly closing in. He went to run away, but Slightly stopped him with a swift kick to the knees. Popcorn flew to the ground, the box Tootles had been holding tumbling into the dirt. Kernels crunched beneath his knees, the sound a disquieting reminder of cracking bones. Felix loved the sound, but Nibs had always hated it. He liked fighting, and even occasionally death, but he preferred it to be quick, swift, and neat. Blood, if any debris left behind, but usually there wasn't (his aim, both with a slingshot and with bow and arrow, was excellent). His prey died immediately. This- with a knife (the only weapon he'd been able to acquire and hide in this world) -and his friend...it would be different. He shivered.<em>

_"You said we were going to watch the football game!" Tootles said plaintively. He cast an accusing glare at Nibs, though beneath the accusation there was also a healthy dose of betrayal and pure, unadulterated terror. Nevertheless, like any animal frightened for its life, Tootles fought back. He moved to the side, desperate to get to his feet, but this time Nibs found it was him who tackled Tootles back to the ground. His conscience screaming in his ears, Nibs drove Tootles into the shadows, where no one would see where that they would about to do, and no one would hear Tootles cries. The sounds would blend in with the raucous cheers of the crowd. It was a brilliant plan, actually, one that Peter no doubt would have been proud of- would be proud of. _

_"**I** said," Slightly huffed, trying to get a grip on Tootles, "that Pan offered us a truce-"_

_"-if we all __**murdered**__ people!" Tootles replied. He rolled back and forth, bucking upwards. One of his fists made contact with Nibs' chin, and stunned, the other Lost Boy staggered backwards. Tootles took advantage of the opening to stand up, reminding them: _

_"And do you honestly think that will last? You __**trust**__ him, after what he did to James? And Robert? We were supposed to be a family! You don't **kill family**!" _

_"That's what they tried to do, Tootles," Slightly pointed out, "They tried to kill Pan." His face was grave. Admittedly, First and Second Twin hadn't actually done the deed themselves, but in a way, that made it worse. Pan had plucked them from horrible lives and granted them eternity, and they couldn't even give him the courtesy of death face-to-face. _

_"After Pan tried to kill Henry! After he'd already hurt so many people!" Tootles contended, hoping against hope for his friends to see the truth in his statement. Wildly, he glanced back and forth at Slightly and Nibs, waiting for them to put their weapons down. _

_"They broke the rules," Nibs said numbly, the words hardly convincing even to his own ears, "and they suffered the consequences. Pan gave us a second chance, and you said no."_

_"I said I trusted Emma more. I said that they beat him once, and I think they can beat him again. And you- you agreed," at once, Tootles's eyes widened again as he realized the awful truth, "You- you lied."_

_"Yes," Slightly confirmed. He sounded shameless, though Nibs knew that deep down, he had to feel as terrible as Nibs did. Slightly was a superb actor, but he also had a strict moral compass. _

_"And I'm the one you decided to kill," Tootles said it as though it were fact. He wasn't searching for a corroboration. He knew it, and he understood. Slightly and Nibs had been testing him earlier, trying to measure his fidelity to Pan. He'd failed, immensely, and now he was going to pay the price for their absolution in blood. _

_"Yes," Slightly said again, the word hanging in the air. _

_At that, Tootles bolted. Adrenaline, hatred, need, and revulsion surging through his veins together, like some heady elixir, Nibs ran after him. He threw himself on the boy, pinning Tootles down and holding his hands in front of him. Tootles couldn't get away from them; this was their one chance. If Tootles escaped, he would jeopardize everything. Pan would likely murder them himself if they failed. _

_"Don't do this, please, you're-" Tootles pleaded, but whatever he had been about to say morphed into a gasp. Slightly lunged behind him, throwing the wire around his throat and yanking tightly. The garrotte, though homemade, was effective. The light quickly faded from the former Lost Boy's eyes, some blood splashing Nibs in the face. The body became heavy and slack in his arms, and Nibs struggled to think of it as just another kill; it was faceless, nameless, he hadn't known him, not at all-_

_Just then, the field was plunged into darkness. That was the signal._

_"Come on," Slightly urged him, "We've only got a minute before they figure out Curly tripped the lights-"_

_The two boys lifted Tootles' limp body and ran through the blackness, out from beneath the bleachers and onto the field. Hurriedly, they tossed it into the grass. There was a sickening plop as it landed sideways, finally rolling to land facedown. The sight would have made Nibs vomit, but he didn't have a long time to stare. Slightly practically dragged him off the field and into the woods as the lights switched back on and screams replaced cheers._

_In the safety of the trees just beyond the field, Slightly and Nibs let the blood run off their hands into the river. Both boys were silent for a long while. _

_At last, Nibs said, "Do you regret it? I feel awful." He was hoping for some kind of comfort, though he didn't know what Slightly could say that could possibly make him feel better. _

_"We'd both feel worse if Pan had killed us instead. It was a choice, and we chose ourselves and Pan," Slightly said emphatically. He refused to meet Nibs' tortured eyes. If he did, his own guilt would surface, and he couldn't afford that. _

_"What does that make us?" Nib asked. His own mind supplied a word: Murderers. Yet, as he faced his friend, Slightly only smiled sadly and declared: _

_"Lost Boys." _

* * *

><p>"You thought Tootles was a threat?" Peter pretended to scoff. He was curious how Slightly and Nibs had rationalized their choice, though he did agree that Tootles' death had been a necessary one. He would have sold them out to the Storybrooke residents immediately, and Pan couldn't have that. He had to save Neverland, and no one would stop him, let alone one incompetent Lost Boy.<p>

"He wasn't at first. Hear us out," Slightly entreated him, "I know you, Pan. You taught us brotherhood above all. You made us a family. We all know you want to create that family again. So, when you offered me the chance to prove myself, I wanted our brothers to have it too. I told them what you asked, Pan. Nibs, Curly, Gavin, and Fox agreed. Tootles didn't. So, Nibs and I killed him. Gavin, Curly, and Fox are all here. They say they'll strike down whomever you ask," Slightly swallowed.

"Curly already helped," Nibs added, "We want your forgiveness, Peter. We want to be Lost Boys again."

"We'll do anything," Slightly agreed.

Pan crossed his arms, gaze inscrutable. He kept his face neutral just long enough to make them squirm. Then, he flashed a huge smile at them:

"And _that_ is why I chose you."

The two Lost Boys let out a sigh of relief as they realized that they would live.

* * *

><p><em>As the Shadow flew her to Neverland's shores, Wendy held on tightly. She wouldn't fall into the ocean this time- after the way they'd parted, she doubted Peter would save her. After all, it had been just a game. Even now, her heart constricted at the words. <em>

_Just a game. _

_Just a game. _

_Just a game. _

_Well, maybe she had been a game to Peter Pan, but what he'd done when he'd taken Baelfire from her wasn't. Bae had become a part of her family, dear to her, and he'd sacrificed himself to protect her and her brothers. He'd shown her the kindness and protection Peter never had, because it was kindness that was real. She wouldn't let Bae- who had proven himself to be her true white knight -bear the penalty for her stupidity. _

_Shaking her head, Wendy kept her eyes on the approaching shoreline. She squinted, puzzled. Had the Shadow even brought her to the right realm? Neverland was a jungle, teeming with heat and flowers and palms touching the sky, the roars of great cats and the buzzing of a hundred insects creating a constant symphony. Yet this land- this land was nothing like Neverland. It was cold, for one. White mist shrouded the island, and the sea, instead of being a crystalline blue, was a steely gray. Pines were where palms should have stood, the flowers were gone, and the only sounds- aside from the whistle of the wind -were the occasional cries of hawks overhead. _

_"Wait-" Wendy said, but the Shadow had already released her. It disappeared into the trees, and she shrieked as she was slammed violently into the ground. She grimaced as gritty sand found its way under her fingernails, then saw the telltale streaks of blood on her elbow and knee. She'd cut herself on a rock. Silently, she cursed- though a lady should never curse -because this would ruin her plan to find Bae and make a run for it. It hurt enough that she doubted she could walk without a limp, and besides, without proper binding, she'd leave a trail of blood that would be easy for the Lost Boys to follow. _

_Pan would find her, no matter what. _

_"Wendy!?" _

_The girl looked up from the sand to see Rufio gaping at her. He was astonished by her appearance, and she was just as shocked at his. He was thinner than she remembered, his cheekbones more prominent. Yet at the same time, he was more muscled, as though he'd had to fight more than before. He wore different clothes as well- instead of the flamboyant red of which he'd been so fond, he now wore a darker ensemble, capped off by a black cloak. _

_Staring at him, Wendy felt as though she had been dropped into an alternate reality. It was Rufio- undeniably Rufio -but if this was Rufio..._

_"What happened?" Wendy asked, "Rufio, what happened here?"_

_The Lost Boy- her favorite, aside from Tootles -did not even bend to help her up, as he once would have done immediately. Instead, he looked up nervously, then whispered: _

_"You shouldn't be here." _

_"What?" the girl's forehead furrowed in confusion. _

_"You shouldn't have come back," Rufio insisted. _

_"I don't plan on staying," Wendy replied, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Her instincts told her something wasn't right, and that she needed to get out. Now. _

_"I don't think you'll have much choice in the matter," a familiar voice said. Peter landed gracefully before her, so Rufio was blocked from her view. He smiled at her, but there was no warmth in it:_

_"Hello, Bird." _

_"Peter," Wendy said, putting as much venom into her voice as she could, "Don't worry. I'm not going to play a game this time. I just want Bae back." She intended to spend as little time in Peter's presence as possible. Her heart still ached from the wounds he'd inflicted upon it. _

_At once, Pan's green eyes narrowed into slits, "Bae isn't going anywhere. And neither are you, Wendy."_

_"Peter, I'm not playing another game-"_

_"But you are, Wendy. You came back. And now the game is **never going to end**." _

_The smirk that accompanied Pan's sinister promise made Wendy's skin crawl. Peter, however, was apparently unaffected by the situation. He reached for her and pulled her to her feet. Despite herself, Wendy stumbled. Peter raised an eyebrow: _

_"Hurt your wing, Bird?" Wendy ignored the jab, then tried to shake his arm off her. He released her, but he stayed close enough to her to see her every movement. Peter noticed the vein at her neck was pulsing wildly. She was nervous- angry, but nervous. The changes in Neverland had disconcerted her, and she was, mystified, yet terrified by, his vow of a never-ending game. _

Good, _Peter thought, a jolt of pleasure rushing through him._ She should be nervous.

_"I'm not going with you," Wendy announced, as if she had any control over it. Peter resisted the urge to laugh. Instead, he inquired, his voice filled with mocking concern: _

_"But don't you want to see Bae? He's a Lost Boy now." _

_Wendy's eyes widened, "No. Never. Bae's not lost-"_

_"He's always been lost," Felix drawled, melting out of the trees, "He was __**born**__ lost. You could say it runs in the family." He grinned, and Peter let out a dark chuckle. Wendy had the discomfiting sense that there was a joke that she wasn't privy to. She cast a glance at Rufio, but he said nothing. Why wasn't he saying anything? He was Pan's second, not Felix. Unless that had changed too? But how? **Why**? _

_"What happened to Neverland?" Wendy asked again, this time resolved to get an answer. Rufio shot her a warning glance, shaking his head, but Felix's smirk grew bigger. Pan raised an eyebrow again, and he explained: _

_"You happened, Wendy. You changed the game when you arrived, don't you remember? And then the game changed when you left." He gestured to the forest around them, and involuntarily, Wendy shivered. Did he really mean that? Was **she** the cause of the startling, chilling, drastic changes to the land she'd loved? Was it still the land of children's dreams now, or had she made it into a land of nightmares? _

_"It's not...right like this. You should change it back," she retorted, desperate to gain any leverage she could. Pan despised it when anyone insulted his creation. _

_Peter smirked, "But I __**am**__ changing it back. You're here now, and you're __**never**__ leaving again." With that, he began to stride into the forest. Wendy stayed where she was, adamant that she would not follow. _

_Felix glanced sideways at her and said, "It would be wise of you to start walking, Wendy. Unless you'd like to go swimming to camp?" _

_The Lost Boys' camp moved around the island periodically. They did it mostly to stay out of range of the pirates and the Indians. While they had a few preferred spots, it was never in the same place for more than a day- sometimes even for more than an hour. Wendy didn't recall them ever camping by the Mermaids' Lagoon, but since things seemed so strange, maybe they did now. At the mention of her longtime fear, and the alarming possibility that she'd be reunited with bloodthirsty mermaids so soon, Wendy's face grew white. _

_Felix laughed at her reaction, "I didn't think you would. Now, walk." He waited, but Wendy stood stock still. Even had she wanted to, she couldn't walk comfortably. And if Peter was determined to parade her back into camp like some sort of victory prize, **she** was determined to enter regally and with grace. She couldn't do that with her injuries. _

_His grin fading at her defiance, Felix narrowed his eyes. He flicked his hand towards Rufio. Obediently, the Lost Boy came forward. He gently took one of Wendy's arms and laid it over his shoulder, then used his other arm to support her waist. _

_Realizing that something was deathly wrong if Rufio was obeying __**Felix**__ without any of his trademark rebelliousness, Wendy swallowed the lump in her throat and allowed him to help her walk in what must have been the direction of camp. Felix, apparently satisfied at their progress, moved ahead to walk directly behind Pan. _

_Hoping he was out of earshot, Wendy whispered, "Rufio, please, tell me. **What happened**?"_

_"Exactly what Pan said," Rufio whispered back, "When you left, everything changed. The land changed. The Lost Boys changed. Peter changed..." he trailed off. Rufio bit his lip, as if he wanted to say more, but dared not. _

_"Are you really so afraid to tell me?" the girl asked._

_Rufio paused. After a moment he murmured, "Yes." _

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

*dun dun dun* Now we have some more context for what happened to Tootles, and a hint of just how much power Pan wields over the Lost Boys. I will try to get the next chapter up soon! Hope you all liked it; please tell me what you think :)

~ladykikyo1792


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